


Lego House

by zankiefanatic



Series: Photograph [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, Bipolar Disorder, Bipolar Ian, Dry Humping, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Rich Ian, Smut, different social classes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 15:54:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 38,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4441961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zankiefanatic/pseuds/zankiefanatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey was a single dad living paycheck to paycheck to give his son a better life on the northside of Chicago rather than the piece of shit southside he grew up in. Ian is the co-owner of a company that he started with Lip,and after global expansion has left him with a nice chunk of change. With just Mickey's income alone sometimes things got tricky and he struggled constantly to give Yevgeny the things he knew he deserved.  Some might call it fate, but Mickey would rather call it Yev's impeccable ability to hit attractive redheads with produce at the grocery store. Whatever it was, that day with not enough money in his pockets to feed his kid, Ian Gallagher blasted into his life. And he should've know everything would change.<br/>It's a story of two people from similar backgrounds but different social statuses. </p>
<p>Mickey must learn to love openly and freely and not see everything as a hand out, while Ian must learn to trust himself and his partner and how to give himself fully to someone. Also kind of but not really a grocery story AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lego House

Moving to the Northside had been hard. Mickey had sworn off illegal activity for the kid’s sake, but he knew staying in Southside wasn’t an option. Svetlana had disappeared as soon as she could, and he’d be damned if he was sticking around with Terry without her. He got as much money together as he could and moved into the cheapest apartment he could find. It kept Yev safe, and stopped him from worrying constantly that his son would end up as fucked up as he did. It’d been a rough couple of years but they were finally situated, things were slowly starting to fall together for him. And maybe that day was just another step in the right direction. He just didn’t know it yet.

“Daddy can we have pizza bagels for dinner tonight?” Yev asked bouncing happily on Mickey’s hip as they made their way into the store.

“Hell yea we can have pizza bagels for dinner.” Mickey smirked ignoring some of the looks passed his way.

He was used to being looked at like Southside trash every now and again. Mostly because he still felt like Southside trash every now and again.

They made their way slowly through with Mickey picking out only exactly what was on his list corresponding with the coupons he had. Things were situated, but money was still tight. He had to keep Yev fed and clothed, it was his top priority. And the kid was damn expensive. Thankfully at six years old they were out of the potty-training nightmare, but Mickey still had to prioritize. His son was number one. Always.

Yev was sitting in the cart playing with a box while Mickey tried to figure out which generic brand of fruit loops was cheaper. One second he heard the playful sounds of adolescence at its finest, a child not needing anything to have fun but their own imagination. Then the next he heard a high pitched grunt followed by a much deeper hiss. He turned to see that his son had knocked someone in the head with a box of macaroni and cheese.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Yev what I tell you about practicing for fucking little league with our food huh?!” Mickey groaned rushing to apologize.

If there’s one thing he’d learned about Northside people was that they didn’t have a very high tolerance for little kids who were disruptive. And Yev was a good kid, Mickey loved him to death, but the kid sure knew how to get into shit.

“Shit I’m sorry man, he’s got his aunt’s arm.” Mickey sighed reaching to pick up the box his son had thrown.

He looked up to see fiery red hair burning wild and beautifully falling into the face of pale, creamy skin. He had green eyes, or maybe they were hazel, so wonderful and deep in the sockets. Mickey froze staring blatantly at one of the most attractive human beings he’d ever seen in his life. God he was hot as all fuck. It was ridiculous. Then the dickhead had the nerve to stand up to his full height, towering over Mickey by a good four inches as a smirk fell easily upon his lips. He knew Mickey was checking him out, could sense how uneasy his very presence made him. That smirk would be the death of Mickey, he was sure of it.

“Aunt huh? I take it you don’t have the best arm then?” He asked handing Mickey the box.

He shrugged hesitantly. “Guess I just don’t know my way around a baseball field.”

“What do you know your way around then?”

Mickey’s eyes widened at the bluntness this guy was capable of. He was hitting on him…right? Mickey had never really been hit on before. Even the queens at the occasional gay bar were more subtle before bending him over in an alley and even that had been years ago, but Mickey was making no mistake. But no . . . he couldn’t possibly…. Could he?

“I’m not gonna answer that man, my kid’s right here.” Mickey mumbled teeth sinking into the flesh of his bottom lip.

“Right. I’m Ian by the way. Ian Gallagher.”

He reached his hand out toward Mickey and he grabbed it just to feel electricity shoot up his arm. Shit this guy was good.

“Mickey Milkovich.”

“Eh heeeeeeeeem. I gots a name too daddy!” Yevgeny loudly interrupted.

Mickey was quickly snapped out of his daydream of Ian Gallagher putting him into a very compromising position by his six year old, reminding him that he had no sex life.

“Oh yea fucking babe Ruth over here, I almost forgot.” He chuckled fussing with his son’s hair. “This is Yevgeny. We call him Yev to save him the embarrassment of being called Yevgeny.”

Ian laughed. “Well it’s very nice to meet you Yev, and you Mickey.”

He totally didn’t shiver at some random hot guy saying his name. That’s not a thing. Nope.

“Yea well, we have pizza bagels to get home to but uh Yev tell Mr. Gallagher sorry for using his head for target practice.”

“Sorry Mr. Gallagher.”

“It’s okay. Call me Ian.”

And Mickey had no idea if he was talking to Yev or Mickey, because he was totally looking at Mickey, he knew because his heart wouldn’t stop thumping all sporadically, but he was addressing Yev, and this shit was officially too confusing for him to handle.

“Alright Yev time to go.” He insisted pushing the cart past the attractive redhead.

“Ugh dad I wanted to play with my new friend.” Yev grumbled.

So did I kid, so did I.  

Mickey managed to grab the last thing on his list before heading toward the cash register where a long line was forming. Of course the one day he needed to get in and get out to rid himself of beautiful men with red hair, the entire fucking neighborhood would descent into the grocery store.

“Daddy I want candy.” He said pointing with his tiny fingers to the selection at the cash register.

“No Yev, not today.” Mickey sighed trying to organize his coupons for the lady at the register.

She looked immensely bored with her life the entire time, popping gum loudly and grating precisely on his last nerve. He just wanted to go home and put his kid to bed so he could masturbate. What kind of cruel world is this?

“Please?! I never get candy, I never get anything.”

“Except everything on this fucking cart so I can feed you tonight, the answer’s no Yevgeny.” He snapped irritably.

There it was again. The concerned looks from middle aged white women who couldn’t believe a father would speak to their son in such a manner. He’d tried to keep his cussing to a minimum, but it was nearly impossible. Without booze and drugs and scams to get him through the never ending stress, cigarettes and the bitter taste of a cuss word on his tongue were some of his only pleasures in life. Besides Yev. Yev could never be a burden to Mickey. He loved him too goddamn much which is why when he started to cry in the middle of the grocery store Mickey’s first instinct wasn’t to be embarrassed by the little boy holding up the line. His instinct was just to make him happy. He really just wanted his son to be happy.

“What’s the total?” He asked.

“Twenty-three eighty-five.”

And there was that feeling. That sinking weight that appears in a parent’s gut when they realize they don’t have enough money. Not like, oh I forgot my wallet at home, but like the last twenty dollars is in my wallet and it’s not enough for my kid. It happened every now and again, but Mickey could never get used to it. It just hurt too much.

“Just, uh, take off the hungry man dinner. How much does that leave me with?”

That was his dinner for the night, but he figured Yev might give him a pizza bagel if he asked nicely.

“Twenty-one twelve, sir.”

“fuck.” He mumbled to himself.

He ran his thumb along his bottom lip nervously peering at the line get longer by the second behind him.

“Alright take the toilet paper off,” Milkovich men could survive off paper towel anyway “and add the candy bar.”

She did as asked continuing to pop her gum, but Yev wasn’t crying anymore so he figured he could deal with it.

“Twenty seventy three.” She huffed.

“Alright here’s twenty and uh . . .”

He shuffled around in his pockets for the loose change wanting to get the fuck out of the store and never come back when his cart was pushed into his side and an obnoxious ass redhead appeared next to him.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear, look I’ve got extra you can put the stuff you took off back on and here’s a ten.” He murmured handing the girl another bill.

Mickey looked at him; wide eyed and confused. Where he came from no one did that. Ever. And the people who did, which was only in fucking movies, usually wanted something from it. Another thing about Milkovichs was they didn’t accept help, from anybody. Not necessarily the best trait, but old habits die hard.

“You don’t have to do that we’re fine.” He insisted.

But the lady had obviously grown tired of Mickey holding up the line and proceeded to bag everything anyway.

“It’s not charity, it’s just somebody doing something nice in this messed up world. Take it alright?” He smiled.

Mickey looked down before the sight of the man before him could blind him. He was like . . . beautiful.

Mickey didn’t do beautiful.

“Daddy does this mean I get to have the candy?” Yev asked hesitantly.

Mickey couldn’t help but smile. “Yea buddy you can have the candy, alright?”

Ian helped them load their bags into a cart before waving softly as Yev, his eyes on Mickey the entire time.

“It was nice to meet you Yev, and you Mickey.”

“Y—Yea nice to meet you too.”

“BYE IAN!” Yev called as Mickey stumbled their way out of the store.

The cool air hit his lungs and he felt like he was breathing for the first time in a long time. Almost as if he’d been holding his breath since he’d met Ian Gallagher. It’d been a long day and he knew the next day would be full of school and work for the both of them. The last thing he needed was to stress about some guy he’d never see again.

He got Yev into the car buckling in deep into his seatbelt and packed the groceries into the trunk before they headed home. He didn’t realize until he looked into mirror to check on Yev that he’d been smiling the entire time. And once he realized it he couldn’t even stop.

It wasn’t until later that night when he was pulling stuff out of the bags to make Yev’s lunch that he found the slip of paper with the number on it nestled in right next to his macaroni and cheese.

Call Me, Ian.

Well shit.

***

Moving to Northside had been hard. His entire life, his family and everything that he knew was in that tiny shitty part of the Southside of Chicago. But he had to get out. He had to do something worthy of his time and of his life. Starting a company with Lip had been his best bet. Lip was the brains of the operation, and Ian had no problem admitting that, but Ian was the face. He was the guy you wanted to do interviews, the guy everyone smiled at and felt content around. It was a start-up company for apps turned global, a success story of the poor as shit Southside kids who made something of themselves. He was happy with it; in fact he was damn proud of it.

So he worked. He worked long, hard hours whenever he could to make sure everything ran smoothly. It left little time in his life for anything else. Especially fucking. Ian liked fucking. Northside gave way more opportunities for it without fag bashing, that was for sure, but sometimes he wanted something a little different. Something you couldn’t find in some overpriced gay bar in Northside. And it wasn’t just about fucking. He kind of wanted someone to go home to. He was getting older and working to create this grand company with his brother just made him want someone to share that with.

Mickey Milkovich had what Ian wanted. He was rough around the edges, had that look to him that reminded Ian of home. He was also incredibly hot. There was another minor detail, a minor detail that like to throw macaroni boxes at his head. He had a son. The logistics of penis in ass seemed to suggest that the most attractive person he’d seen since Southside liked the stick it in women. But the look on his face when he saw Ian suggested something a little different, and Ian was always one to take chances.

Slipping his number into Mickey’s bag had seemed like a good idea at the time but in the end left to nothing but frustration and anxiety. After three hours of waiting for a text or a call, he was convinced Mickey wasn’t gay and probably hated his guts. Then there was a point where he thought maybe he never even found the number and didn’t know that Ian wanted to bend him over or take him for dinner, whichever he preferred. And the kid. The kid was so cute and he looked like Mickey and he couldn’t get visions of them going to the zoo or for ice-cream together out of his head. It was corny and did little to curb his anxiety but he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t get Mickey out of his head.

It wasn’t until nearly midnight that his phone went off, leaving him to leap the other side of the room to grab it.

Mickey: you make a habit of slipping your number into random dude’s grocery bags often?

Ian: probably as often as you spend responding to random numbers from your grocery bags ;)

Mickey: oh god you just sent me a winky face this is never gonna work

Ian: I’m willing to try if you are?

Mickey: Try at what exactly?

Ian: dinner. Saturday @ 8.

Mickey: you work fast. Idk man I gotta see if I can find a sitter on such short notice.

Ian: so that’s a yes?

Mickey: that’s a idk jackass

Ian: lol I like you Mickey. I’ll text you the address when I make the reservation. Good night!

Mickey had never met such a cocky bastard in his entire life. Who just assumed that someone was okay with going to dinner? Who just assumed that whatever address was sent to them they would just SHOW up to? Ian fucking Gallagher that’s who. He couldn’t tell if he wanted to go out to dinner with the bastard or punch him in the throat. He couldn’t stand how easy it was for him. It took him hours to even type the number into his phone let alone think of what he would say. But Ian could just slip his number into his bag, could just ask him to out to dinner, and could just tell him that he liked him. Mickey wasn’t like that, never had been and never would be. Ian Gallagher was incredibly frustrating. But Mickey couldn’t get him out of his head.

***

“Yev come on time to get up.” Mickey cooed.

Yev just grunted and rolled over mumbling, “No.”

“It wasn’t a question, Yevgeny now come on we can’t be late again your teacher will kick my ass if I bring you in in the middle of morning talk time.”

“Can’t get up. Need sleep.” He grumbled.

Mickey rolled his eyes ‘cause like why did his son have to be so goddamn dramatic all the time. He grabbed him by his ankles throwing him playfully into the air which sparked a rupture of giggles to pour from his son’s throat. He loved those little giggles. Lived for them.  It didn’t matter if it took all morning as long as he got to hear that beautiful sound.

Yev spent his morning in front of the tv furiously eating cheerios and enjoying the wonderful lessons that only a talking sponge can teach. No matter how much Mickey prepped the night before, the mornings always seemed to have a never-ending to-do list for him. Getting his son dressed, getting himself showered and dress as well, and getting them in the car and off to school was a miracle every day. A miracle he worked ass off to achieve. His mornings, which had once been non-existent seeing as he slept through them usually with a hangover or high, were now centered around packed lunches and kisses good byes in front of soccer moms. What used to be sleeping in till noon with pounding headaches and screaming brothers was a different kind of madness, a madness he wouldn’t trade for the world. It was his life. It was everything.

Maybe that’s why Gallagher was setting his teeth on edge. Gallagher represented change. He wanted to make it something different, wanted to take him to dinner like some all you can fag buffet. He’d never even thought of dating. Milkovichs didn’t date. They fucked when they wanted with who they wanted and went on with their life. It occurred to Mickey that even that idea didn’t apply to him anymore. He liked guys, and that was about the worst thing a Milkovich could do. So there he was, having finally escaped the clutches of his father, only to still have him plaguing his every move. It made him feel like a pussy. And if there’s one thing Mickey Milkovich wasn’t, was a pussy.

Mickey: Friday @ 9. Gives me time to put my kid to sleep. And I swear to god if there’s candlelight I’ll kick your ass.

He dropped his phone off in the passenger seat gripping his knuckles tight on the wheel so he wouldn’t touch it again. Maybe to take it back. Maybe because he just wanted to talk to the mysterious ginger tree with good manners and an adorable smile. Yev was in the back singing along to some top forty pop hit, and Mickey was trying very hard not to have a crush on another human being. But other than that, everything was perfectly normal that Monday morning.

“I’ll see you after school alright?” Mickey grinned as he dropped Yev off in his classroom.

Yevgeny smiled back hugging his father tightly like he did every morning. Those hugs were the best start to Mickey’s otherwise uneventful mornings.

“Okay! Can we have mac and cheese for dinner tonight?”

“I’ll see what I can do kid-o. Go learn somethin’ huh?”

“Alright, alright. Love you daddy!” He declared on his way inside.

Mickey smiled slowly make his way back to the car. He always hated saying goodbye to Yevy cause it meant he had to go to work, so he tried to hold onto to his son’s smile as long as possible. Back in the car he came to the very embarrassing conclusions that Ian Gallagher had texted him back. It was embarrassing because his stomach did this weird flip thingy like a fucking girl. That was the moment that he decided Gallagher would surely be the death of him.

Ian: I can’t wait to see you.

Gallagher never ceased to leave Mickey speechless, despite only having known him for not even twenty-four hours. It wasn’t that he disagreed with him; Mickey totally felt the same way, but you didn’t see him texting people he’d met yesterday that important information now did you? It took him all of his ride to work to decide if he should respond to the text message. Than he spent his elevator ride debating on whether to say “fuck off”, or “whatever”.  He’d spent less thought on essays back in high school, the few times that he did actually do them, and it was maddening.

“What’s got you thinking so hard this morning Mickey Mouse?” A bubbly voice cooed over his shoulder.

Mickey automatically grumbled half-heartedly. “Stop fuckin’ callin’ me that.”

Sara was a forty year old white woman who didn’t look a day over twenty-five and knew it, acted like it too. Her hair was brown with natural blondish tints weaving their way through the strands. She was skinny with wide hips and big boobs she insisted were real by touching Mickey’s hands to them and forcing him out of the closet when he started to gag. Needless to say she was his best friend on the job. She was blunt yet charismatic to the point where everyone listened to what she had to say no matter how hard it was to hear because it certainly always came from a good place. She also stressed to Mickey, very early on in their budding friendship that she wouldn’t take any of his shit. Plus, he was too lazy to make any other friends and she got him coffee so what other friendship did he need?

“Rough night with the little one again?” She asked plopping down beside him at her desk.

He shook his head glaring at his phone. “No just some hot ginger with an obnoxious ass grin that asked me out to dinner.”

She made a screech that sounded wet, like a whale dying, her long artificial nails digging painfully into Mickey’s skin.

“Ow goddammit! The fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Mickey Milkovich is going on a date?!  I didn’t know you dated. I didn’t even know you had friends. I literally thought the only person you knew in this town was your son. And well me.”

“’Snot a date.” He mumbled sounding like a liar even to himself. “I don’t date.”

“Oh is he not gay?”

He thought back to the texts with Ian, the flirty smiles, the touch that had sent sparks up his arm. His gaydar was a little rusty but if Gallagher wasn’t gay he had a fucked up way of making friends in a grocery store.

“He’s gay.”

She eyes him dubiously. “So he’s gay. You’re gay. You just called him a hot ginger, and he asked you to dinner but it’s not a date?”

“Exactly.”

She sighed brushing her long brown hair over her shoulder and clicking her tongue obnoxiously. Mickey had learned long ago that that stance meant she was about to tell him something about himself. But it was never that simple with her. She always had to trick him into it, before slamming into him with her blatant honesty. It was annoying as all fuck.

“How’d you two meet anyway?”

He replayed the scene for her warily trying to keep his face clear of all emotion the entire time. Something about the cool, skeptical expression on Sara’s face told him he wasn’t doing very good job of it. When he explained how it’d been Yev who had ironically introduced them her eyes lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. It was going to be a very long morning, he could feel it.

“So he’s already met Yevgeny?” She asked with wide eyes as if it should be obvious.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Yea.  So?”

  
“Soooo that’s why you’re scared silly. I’ve known you for almost five years Mickey and your excuse for never getting close to anyone is all about how you have a son and he comes first and no one wants to be tied down by a kid and all that self-sacrificing whiny bullshit. This guy already knows you have a kid and he doesn’t give a shit instantly proving your theory wrong. That scares the shit out of you.”

She took his avoidance of her eyes to be an agreement. The truth was they weren’t just friends. Sara had kind of looked out for him and Yev when they first moved to Northside. She’d helped him find the local daycare, the coffee spots, everything he needed to know. He’d been scrappy and rough and hesitant toward everything when they’d first met and she made it her mission to try and make him a little less cynical. It was still a work in progress.

“Mickey,” She murmured softly. “I know it’s terrifying to let someone in but you’re too young to completely close yourself off from love. Go on a date, send flirty texts, and for God’s sake get laid. The world isn’t gonna stop spinning if you have a life. You deserve some happiness.”

He didn’t know how to say that he couldn’t, that he didn’t deserve to be happy. They’re friendship wasn’t that deep. Or maybe it was too deep and he just couldn’t let her see him in that light.

“I don’t have a baby sitter.”

She smiled warmly. “Yes you do. I haven’t seen my little man in far too long. He still a stud?”

He laughed. “Yes I guess so. You sure? You really don’t have to.”

“Yes I do. If I don’t I’ll have to wait until Monday to hear all the juicy details.”

The mood was lightened and Mickey couldn’t thank her enough for that it made it easier to pretend he wasn’t scared shitless.

The morning passed slowly at first in front of a computer screen. Mickey worked for some firm where he had no idea what they did exactly. He was just a secretary among a lot of other secretaries doing paper work and filing and other random shit. But he got benefits for him and Yev, it paid well with a steady raise if he worked hard enough, and they let him worked as many hours as he needed to support him and Yev. That’s all he needed to know. He was pretty good at his job. He always had to leave earlier than everyone else to go get Yev from school so he’d learned early on to get twice the amount of work done in half the time of the other employees. Today was a little different though. Today he had an obnoxious redhead who wouldn’t stop texting him.

Ian: What’s your favorite color?

Mickey: Black y?

Ian: Jw. Btw black isn’t a color, but the absence of color.

This fucking kid.

Mickey: Does it come in a box of crayons?

Ian: Yes.

Mickey: Then it’s a fucking color

Ian: lol

Lol troubled Mickey very deeply. If you were to ask him if he was funny he’d say fuck yea. But lol meant laugh out loud and Mickey knew from experience that people who texted lol were rarely actually laughing out loud. Was he actually laughing at what Mickey said or had the joke merely made him snicker with a soft chuckle? He needed to know. He couldn’t explain why, but he wanted to make Ian Gallagher laugh. Like actually laugh. Lol wasn’t good enough for him. He was also too much of a pussy to ask the guy if he’d actually laughed so it was kind of a moot point.

Ian: What’s your favorite song?

Mickey: don’t have one

Ian: What do you mean you don’t have one?

Mickey: Don’t listen to music much. Yev usually likes whatever’s on the top 40 tho

Ian: Mickey Milkovich we’re gonna listen to music together. This is just unacceptable.

Mickey rolled his eyes.

Mickey: so over dramatic. You wanna lay out a blanket and look for shooting stars together next?

Ian: Maybe on the third date ;)

Mickey couldn’t stand him. He was so cocky and so sure of himself. And there seemed to be nothing Mickey could do to knock him down a peg. He also couldn’t stand how easy it was to talk to him. The entire morning had passed and before he knew it, it was his lunch break and Gallagher was sending him pictures of his nasty ass kale salad, which Mickey responded to with a much sexier picture of a cheese burger. And then, as if he hadn’t been badgering him with enough questions all morning, Ian continued to try and dig into Mickey.

Ian: So . . . top or bottom?

Mickey’s head snapped up self-consciously as if someone had been reading over his shoulder the entire time. Instead everyone was gone on their lunch breaks because they weren’t anti-social assholes like him. It was just him . . . and Gallagher’s stupid ass blush inducing questions.

Mickey: Don’t you have a fucking job to get to or something?

Ian: I have a meeting but not till 3. I’m all yours Mick.

Mickey: Lucky me -_-

Ian: You have NO idea. So Mickey, do you give it or do you take it?

He had to fight all of his instincts, years of internalized homophobia to not cuss Ian out. Sara thought he didn’t date cause he was afraid which was certainly part of it, but there was something else. A piece of him that had grown used to self-hatred, years of hating what he was, hating that he wasn’t normal in his father’s eyes. The only thing keeping him together was his conversation with Sara from earlier. Flirt. Have fun. He was no longer in his father’s clutches. He was free.

Mickey: I take it. When it’s something worth taking.

Ian: Hmmm looks like I got a size queen on my hands

Mickey: Maybe I just know what I like.

Ian: Yea? Maybe I could show you something else you might like sometime.

Mickey couldn’t believe the nerve of this guy. Maybe his gaydar wasn’t the best and perhaps he couldn’t decipher acronyms, but he knew damn well what Gallagher was getting at this time. He was going to die of a stroke he was sure of it. No pun intended.

Mickey: Why don’t you focus on making sure you get a second date before you go talking a big game.

Ian: Not to be cocky (pun totally intended) but I’m positive if you saw what I had to offer you’d clear your schedule for the rest of the year for another date.

“Jesus Christ.” He muttered to himself shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“What?” Sara appeared out of bum-fuck Egypt to scare the shit out of him.

His phone went clattering to the ground in his effort to keep her away from it.

“N—Nothing! Nothing.”

She raised her eyebrows taking in Mickey’s weird ass expression.

“You need a vacation. I think the screen’s starting to get to you.”

***

“Daddy I wanna watch Spongebob!”

Mickey rolled his eyes playfully. “I told you Spongebob doesn’t come on at night, Yev.”

“Well make it come on then.”

“Yea okay except for the fact that I can’t do that. Now why don’t you go pick out a movie and we’ll watch that instead, okay?”

Yev quickly clambered off Mickey’s lap snatching Alvin and the Chipmunks two or three or seventy as far as Mickey was concerned, he lost track. As long as Yev was happy he’d survive though. They snuggled up together on the couch. Yev singing every single song which Mickey was hopeless to find adorable. It was always fun to be with Yev no matter what they did. Plus, there never ceased to be this sense of guilt for being such a shit dad in the beginning. He always felt like he owed some kind of debt to repay for that.

That night when he got Yev into bed after a bedtime story and tucking him underneath he covered Mickey decided that was as good a time as any.

“Yev can I ask you something?”

Yev touched his tiny little palm to Mickey’s cheek and he happily melted against the touch.

“Of course daddy.”

“Would you be mad if I went out on Friday?”

“Out?” He asked, clearly confused.

“Yea for like—dinner.”

“Can I come?”

Mickey shook his head softly. “Not this time buddy. It’s an adult dinner. You wouldn’t have fun anyway.”

“How comes you’re going then?”

He’d almost forgotten that kids asked way too many goddamn questions.

“Cause I was invited. And well I don’t leave you very often right? Sometimes dad just needs to  . . . be with other adults. Does that make sense?”

Yev seemed to genuinely think about it for a minute, the whole time playing with Mickey’s hair absentmindedly as he usually did.

“Yea,” he eventually decided. “That sounds okay. You need friends daddy.”

“I’m trying Yevy.” He chuckled. “Sara’s gonna come watch you and I’ll be home as soon as I can okay?”

Yev yawned nodding softly. “Good. She totally loves me.”

Figures the gay guy would have a lady’s man for a son. With Yevgeny on board with it there was really nothing to keep Mickey from going on the date. He was nervous as all fuck too. He’d ever been on a date in his entire life and the thought of Gallagher being his first was very nearly traumatizing. He wanted it, damn did he want it, but that surprisingly didn’t cease to make it any less agonizing.

The rest of the week managed to move sluggishly slow yet fast enough to make him feel like he was on the cusp of whiplash all at the same time. Ian texted him every morning never giving him a very clear explanation as to why he never seemed to have any work to do. With Sara constantly peeking over into his cubicle to look at his texts he was constantly stressing over saying the wrong thing. She explained to him that his flirting skills were basically shit and that Gallagher was on some next level out of world shit, often times needing time herself to come up with some witty response. Oddly enough Ian seemed to like it more when it came from Mickey himself, cringe-worthy or not. By the time Friday rolled around a strange sense of calm had worked its way through Mickey. He felt a little better connected to Ian. It wasn’t just some beautiful human he’d met at a grocery store. Some of the mystique had been diluted and it made him seem more obtainable.

Ian: Text me your address

Mickey: Why the hell would I do that?

Ian: So I can pick you up grumpy.

Mickey: I can drive myself fuck you very much

Ian: That’s nice. I’m still picking you up. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do Mick.

Mickey: Yea well I’m not some fifteen year old girl so you’re off the hook.

Ian: Mickey I’m picking you up alright? We’re gonna go out to dinner, we’re gonna have a great time and I’ll have you home before midnight so you can be with your son. Now stop your bitching and send me the fucking address.

It was moments like that where he was sure he hated Ian. Just assuming that he could pick Mickey up. The last thing Mickey needed was Ian and Yev meeting again before he could explained things, before he was ready. It wasn’t fair to Yev, and it certainly wasn’t fair to Mickey to have to endure a car ride with Ian. It would no doubt be quiet and awkward as all fuck and Gallagher would ditch him before the date even started. But he couldn’t help but be intrigued. It wasn’t often that anyone spoke to him that way, through text message or not. Gallagher had balls. And he liked that way too much for his own good which is how he ended up standing outside freezing his balls off waiting for some sign of a ginger tree just to go on a fucking date.

He was on his third cigarette when this expensive ass car pulled up. Since moving to Northside, he’d slowly grown use to the BMW’s and Cadillac’s and the occasional Prius for those environment friendly fucks. This was different. This was . . .  well quite honestly he didn’t know what the hell it was. All he knew was that Gallagher was stepping out of the car in a fucking pea coat looking sexy as all hell and running his fingers through his hair like Mickey needed that shit in his life. He officially forgot how to breathe. This was going to be harder than he thought.

“Hey. What are you doing out here? It’s cold, I would’ve come and got you.” He smiled.

Mickey quickly looked away from his gaze eyes settling on the car. This man was going to kill him.

“What in the hell is this?”

“It’s my baby. I call her Delilah.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow. “Okay but like . . . what is it?”

“Well technically it’s a Lamborghini Veneno roadster. I like to drive fast. Now come on we’ll miss our reservation.”

A grin formed on his lips when Mickey still didn’t move eyes glued to the car.

“Mickey,” He cooed. “If you don’t get in the car I just might come open the door for you.”

A smirk thick on his face, Ian managed to irritate Mickey further. He hurried into the car to avoid any other romantic gestures Gallagher might be waiting to impose.

Wherever Gallagher was taking him should’ve taken much longer than it did. Jackass drove like a maniac in that ridiculous car. The smile on his face almost made Mickey forget that he was flying through the streets at clearly illegal speeds. He seemed to slow down as the streets got busier thankfully, but that only left him time to actually talk to Mickey.

“You look really good by the way.” He shrugged casually. “Black really is your color.”

Mickey looked down at the black button up he’d worn underneath his jacket. It was pretty much the only nice shirt he owned seeing how his job was pretty lenient when it came to the dress department. He could feel his cheeks burning at the acknowledgement though and he growled internally. He needed to get a grip.

“Yea? Thought black wasn’t a color?”

Ian rolled his eyes managing a chuckle. “Stop being a prick and take the compliment. Dilfs are in.”

“Did you just call me a Dilf?” Mickey smirked.

“N—No I wasn’t assuming that I—Cause I don’t want—not that I don’t want to cause obviously you’re ... Oh my god.”

That was the first time he really saw Ian Gallagher. This goofy, embarrassing childlike guy just as nervous as Mickey. The bravado, the confidence, it was a part of him too, but that side of him was what Mickey really gravitated toward. He wanted to see it more, maybe make him nervous more.

“You’re a dork.” He snorted. “Calm down.”

Ian’s hands tightened nervously on the wheel and he peeked over at Mickey with an anxious smile; the surprising part being that Mickey found himself smiling back. For the first time he found himself relaxing. He was kind of excited for the date.

***

Mickey was really fun to listen to when he actually spoke. It took a minute to get him to open up, but when he did that same Southside charm that came through when they were texting was back again. He encouraged him to talk about Yevgeny because he liked how prideful he was when he mentioned him. Ian was having trouble controlling himself. He really liked this guy.

“So what do you do when you’re not with Yev?”

Mickey shrugged. “I’m not really ever without Yev except for school and work, which is why this doesn’t make much sense.”

“What doesn’t make sense?”

“You’re hot. I highly doubt you have a problem getting laid. What do you want with a single dad who’s so attached to his kid that this is his first date ever?”

Ian sat back for a minute just taking Mickey in. He was honest, brutally so and Ian liked that about him. It was surprising to hear he’d never been on a date, but it didn’t have the intended effect. Something Ian realized then and would continue to see was Mickey trying to push him away. He tried to show him all of things that he thought were wrong with him, all the reasons why no one should want him, but all it did was make Ian want him more. Before he knew it he was smiling up at him, Mickey staring back with those perfectly arched eyebrows of his like Ian was insane and he probably was.

“Mickey, I’m not here cause I wanna fuck you.”

“Then what are you here for?”

“To get to know you. I think you’re cute when you wanna be, sexy all the other times. I wanna know who you are; I wanted us to get to know each other.”

“I’m not that interesting.” The dark haired man insisted, cheeks warming in response to his words.

“I disagree.” Ian argued. “Do you not wanna get to know me?”

He watched Mickey struggle with an answer and he knew that he had him. He didn’t even have to answer.

Dinner wasn’t nearly as scary as either of them had made it out to be. Mickey found that Ian was charming as all hell which was a real problem. He couldn’t not be charmed by him. He kept making him do stupid shit like smiling and laughing and biting his lip. And Ian loved it. Every time he would say some stupid ass joke to get Mickey to smile and it worked? It only made him work that much harder to get him to do it again. He learned that Ian liked to work out, kickboxing and cardio mostly which Mickey had absolutely no interest in, although he certainly wouldn’t mind watching. He liked video games and sunsets, going to movies on the weekends. It was weird. They didn’t have every little thing in common, but they still found interest in one another.

Ian made him laugh whether intentional or not. He was stupid and weird and charming and Mickey didn’t think that he’d ever met anyone like him before. He wanted more of him, wanted to soak in every ounce of Gallagher that there was. It left him feeling overwhelmed afterwards but in the heat of the moment, he just felt really fucking happy.

“You’ve got a dealer?” He laughed. “Little Orphan fuckin’ Annie has a weed dealer?”

“Shut the fuck up okay? I’ve got the best shit in town, I’ll have you know. You just wait and see, jackass.” Ian chortled back.

They were interrupted when the waitress came up with the bill.

“Mr. Gallagher here’s your check.”

“Oh great thanks.”

Mickey didn’t even get the chance to get nervous about how expensive the ridiculous ass steak Ian had ordered for him was gonna be before Gallagher was slipping two bills into the envelope and handing it back.

“Keep the change.” He smiled.

Mickey raised an eyebrow as Ian turned back to continue their conversation.

“What the hell was that man?”

“What? What’d I do?”

“I can afford my own food Gallagher I’m not some broken down bitch in desperate need of a warm meal.”

Ian just rolled his eyes. “Jesus you’re dramatic. I paid because I asked you out. Chivalry still exists you know? I ask, I pay. Not everything has to do with you, Milkovich.”

The heat of Mickey’s anger was quickly replaced with the heat of embarrassment. If he was a cat his ears would’ve flattened down on his head. Ian reached out to push his hand on Mickey’s shoulder that unique electricity shooting through their veins once again.

“Hey . . . It’s alright, okay? I’m not trying to buy you Mickey, I promise. I just like you.”

He felt a sharp intake of breath pass through his lips as he struggled to process that information. Unable to do so, he nodded trying not to look any dumber than he already did.

The ride home was quiet as Mickey silently beat himself up over everything as usual. He’d pretty much come to the conclusion that it was going to be him and Yev for the rest of forever by the time they’d pulled up in front of his apartment. And it sucked cause he kind of liked Gallagher. Kind of like a lot. He really liked him. Ashamed, he slid from the passenger seat without a word as Ian simultaneously did the same coming around to Mickey’s side of the car.

“I had a really nice time tonight.” He smiled shyly eyes on the ground.

They were both standing with their hands in their coat pockets kick at absolutely nothing on the ground like a couple of kids.

“Me too. Sorry about ruining the end. Got a bad habit of that. I blame genetics.”

Ian laughed softly. “My siblings and I say that too. You didn’t ruin anything it was perfect.”

“Yea?” Mickey asked looking up at him.

“Yea.”

They stared at each other for a second eyes straying to lips and back to eyes. Ian wanted it. Mickey’s lips looked like absolute heaven and he’d constantly licked and bit at them during dinner until they were all Ian could focus on.  Mickey wanted it too. Gallagher had soft pink lips that he always felt his eyes straying to when he’d talk. They were kind of mesmerizing. And he wanted them. They both wanted it. All it took was Mickey muttering a husky “fuck it”, before surging forward onto the tips of his toes to reach Ian’s lips. The electric pulse that had hit when they touched was but a spark compared to the explosion that took place when their lips connected. It was unlike anything either of them had ever experienced before and they loved it way too much.

They each struggled to get their fists out of their pockets, Ian reaching to cradle Mickey’s head in his hand and pull him closer. His teeth were edging near Mickey’s bottom lip nipping to get him to open up with a gasp. He wanted to taste him so bad, taking full advantage as he slipped his tongue inside. Mickey groaned deeply from the base of his throat. Of all the things so obviously dangerous about Ian Gallagher, his kissing abilities were absolutely lethal. No one should be able to kiss like that. Jesus.

The plan had been to blow him away with a quick, dirty kiss and then just walk away keep the guy wanting more or some shit like that. Instead he found himself pressed up against Gallagher’s expensive ass car making out like a teenager with a half chub pressed uncomfortably against Ian’s thigh. He tugged at the crimsons strands, lungs burning from the lack of oxygen, yet it still felt too good to pull away. In the end Ian broke the kiss with a gasp, their foreheads pressing together as they tried to catch their breath as if they’d been doing so much more than kissing.

“Goodnight Mickey Milkovich.”

Mickey’s face burned at the sound of his name on Ian’s tongue.

“Good night Ian Gallagher.”

He shuffled his way inside willing himself not to look back. He barely made it to the stairs before collapsing. His whole body felt light and bubbly. Mickey clutched at the railing so that he wouldn’t float away his lips feeling tingly at the touch. It occurred to him, sitting there on the steps of his shitty apartment building with his son just a floor above him that he was absolutely and totally fucked.

***

Ian had a lunch date with Mickey Milkovich. It’d taken days to hear back from Mickey after their date and it very nearly drove Ian insane. He couldn’t get their kiss off his mind and after seventy-two hours of waiting for Mickey to call or text or do something he’d taken matters into his own hands. Mickey had been obviously reluctant insisting that he didn’t feel comfortable leaving Yev again so soon, but with the offer of a lunch date there had been no room to say no. Ian had felt absolutely on top of the world.

So of course on the day of what was surely the most important lunch date EVER, he was running late as all fuck. All hell had broken lose at work and despite the several hundred employees he had hired to handle things, he of course was the only person who could fix it. But not today. Today was his day. With Mickey. He’d been waiting to see Mickey’s face since that night. That night so filled with laughter and fun and the kiss . . . He hadn’t known that kissing could feel that good. He had a sneaking suspicion anything could feel amazing when Mickey was involved and he was hell bent on testing the theory. So on that particular morning he was not in the mood to deal with any shit. That’s when Lip showed up.

“Hey little bro where’s the fire at?”

Ian ignored him grabbing his keys and closing his laptop, eager to get the hell out of there.

“Server was down. I had to take care of it and I’m late for lunch. No time to talk gotta go.”

Lip raised an eyebrow. “We don’t have any meetings scheduled today do we?”

“Nope it’s a personal lunch not that that’s any of your business. I’ll be back in an hour try not to let our company fall to shit.”

He pushed past his brother hoping to avoid any more questions. He might have heard Lip call after him asking if his personal lunch was a date, but if he didn’t he didn’t respond. Mickey was waiting for him, jackass could wait.

Ian: Coming soon

Mickey: A little early to hear about your dick don’t you think?

Ian: lol stfu. Be there in 20

Mickey had given him directions to a small café that was very clearly not at his job. Something about not wanting some woman named Sara to lose her shit any more than she’d already had. Ian made a mental note to definitely meet Sara at some point. When he gets there Mickey makes him feel significantly over dressed, yet he can’t help but feel like he’s absolutely stunning. The suit that Ian wears every day to work is nothing compared to Mickey’s t-shirt and khakis. It must be as close to a uniform as Mickey will go, but Ian was positive that he was too sexy for his own good. He wanted to kiss him already. Jesus.

“Hey I’m sorry I’m late everything fell apart at work right before I was supposed to leave.” He sighed plopping down across from Mickey.

Mickey shrugged. “No biggie. You still not gonna tell me what the hell it is you do?”

“Not important.”

“If it’s not important, then you should have no trouble telling me.”

“It’s boring Mickey really.”

“I wanna know.”

Ian sighed hiding his gaze behind a menu as he opened himself up a little bit more.

“I don’t want you to resent me for my job okay?”

“The fuck you going on about Gallagher?”

Ian didn’t know how to explain it, didn’t really want to. He just knew that he really liked Mickey. He also knew what happened when most people found out what he was. The car was one thing. The expensive suit and the generous tips. But he knew what he and Lip had created was bigger than themselves. His brother didn’t ever date a girl long enough to get close. His job was too important, they got too blinded by the fruits of his labor. Ian worked even harder than Lip. He loved his job, but with Mickey there was a hint of shame at what he’d become and he didn’t want that to get in the way of what they might have.

“I own . . . a company. Only a part of it. Half of it. With my brother. Okay?”

He kept his eyes glued to the menu listening as Mickey gave a huge sigh. In that moment he was sure it was over, that the adorable blue eyed man before him would go running for the hills. But then Mickey started to laugh and he became increasingly aware that Mickey Milkovich was unlike anyone he’d ever met before.

“I thought you were a drug lord. That’s a fucking relief I gotta tell you.” Mickey snorted.

Ian set his menu down leaning his chin on both in his hands in confusion.

“You don’t care?”

“Am I supposed to care?”

“I mean . . . It’s just that you freak out when I offer you ten dollars for a hungry man dinner and some toilet paper. I didn’t want you to find out how much I make and then not wanna be with me because of it.”

They stared at each other for a minute Mickey’s face turning into a wicked grin at the same time Ian’s reddened realizing what he had said.

“You saying you wanna be with me Gallagher? You wanna give me your letterman jacket and take me to the drive in with Harry and Sue?” He snorted.

Ian hung his head in embarrassment losing his sense of confidence once again. It was always either ridiculously easy to be sure of himself with Mickey or absolutely impossible, never an in between. It sometimes seemed impossible to share his feelings with someone who was so insistent on not doing the same. Often times he was just trying to get on equal footing with him it seemed.

They were interrupted by a waitress appearing to take their order. Ian took his time trying to avoid Mickey’s gaze which was still taunting him.

“You gotta relax man.”

Ian snickered. “Yea I’ll get right on that.”

“It’s the second date, no need to go getting all sappy on me quite yet.”

“You know you’re kind of a jackass?”

Mickey laughed. “Yea I know. But I’m here ain’t I? ‘S gotta count for something.”

And he had a point. Ian was on another date with Mickey. That meant he had to be doing something right. He tried to hold onto that, tried to keep himself from pushing Mickey away.

They spend lunch complaining about their jobs. Well mostly Mickey complained and Ian just laughed at how adorably angry he could get sometimes. Mickey told him about his dickhead of a boss and the skanks at work practically sucking his dick just to stay on his good side. Ian loved the way Mickey told stories, and no one had ever listened so intently to what Mickey had to say. Ian made him feel important, like he had something worthy to say. It made him feel warm and stupid inside. Fucking Gallagher.

“When can I see you again?” Ian asked hopefully, teeth sunken into his bottom lip looking like a fucking adorable puppy.

Mickey took him in, somehow incredibly dorky and cute as all fuck in his seaweed green suit practically created to make dicks harden everywhere. Why did his face have to look like that? It was immensely distracting.

“I eat lunch every day.” Mickey shrugged in response.

His eyes brightened at Mickey’s words and he actually got cuter. Fuck.

“Here? Tomorrow at, I don’t know, noon?”

“Yea. Okay.”

Ian smiling reassuringly at him, stepping up boldly to take Mickey’s face in his hands. Mickey didn’t know how he kept ending up pressed against Gallagher’s car with a tongue shoved down his throat but he was finding it pretty impossible to complain. He was more risky this time too, fingers scratching through Mickey’s hair, lips chasing skin every time Mickey would pull away gasping for air. Everything was hazy ,Gallagher taking up everything in his senses. It was all Mickey could see, hear, taste. It was Ian and he found himself growing more attached to him with every passing breath.

“Fuck, I gotta get back to work.” He gasped against Ian’s neck chuckling softly. “We don’t all own our own companies.”

“Funny. Call me later yea?”

“We both know you’ll be texting me before I’m back at work but sure.”

“Good. Bye Mick.” Ian grinned kissing the corner of his mouth.

Mickey ended up fifteen minutes late for work, a fact that seemed to be unnoticed by absolutely everyone  . . .  except Sara. As did another fact apparently.

“Is that a hickey?!”

“Jesus Christ.” He mumbled.

And so it began.

*                                                                                **

They ate lunch together every day that week. And the week after that too. When Yev was down for the night Mickey would call Ian on the phone while he made lunches and picked up crayons off the floor. It was weird having someone to talk to all the time. A good weird but a weird none the less. Ian made him laugh too. It was usually corny jokes and terrible puns, but Mickey was always helpless to the chuckles it brought out of him.

Before he knew it, a month had passed and Ian was still there, one month blending perfectly into two. Time continued to past and he’d yet to let him around Yev since their initial meeting which left their meetings limited to outside their respective homes. Not that Ian hadn’t tried to get Mickey to come over multiple times. He couldn’t leave Yev overnight though. And after a month of nothing but heated kisses and whiny dry humping, Mickey was terrified of what going to Ian’s place would mean. It wasn’t that they didn’t do anything, Gallagher’s mouth got increasingly filthy after Yevgeny was asleep, but there was definitely a difference between getting off through the phone and actual sex. Mickey had never been in something that didn’t have sex on the table. They hadn’t decided if they were a couple or friends or some weird benefits crap and it made him nervous to add sex to it. There were still certain aspects they had to figure out but things were going really well for the most part. Which is why of course Gallagher had to go and try and ruin everything.

“Hey Yev’s like obsessed with SpongeBob right?”

Mickey raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “How’d you know that?”

“You told me, remember?”

Mickey vaguely remembered complaining about Yev’s obsession with the talking sponge when a marathon had been on, but he was positive that it had only been in passing. He found it kind of adorable that Ian remembered that. God he was so gay.

“Oh yea. So? Why do you bring it up?”

Ian shrugged keeping his eyes on his salad. “I just saw the trailer for that new movie. You gonna take him?”

Mickey knew exactly what Ian was talking about. The movie had become the bane of his very existence and it wasn’t even fucking out yet. Yev was convinced that the very state of his survival was depending on whether or not he saw that movie where as Mickey was a little more realistic. The state of Yev’s survival was actually dependent on whether or not Mickey could pay rent that month, a concept that left him stretched for movie theater type cash.

“I don’t know man.” He mumbled eyes shifting down to his plate. “I want to, course I want to, but rent’s due. I can’t afford both.”

“I can help.”

Mickeys head snapped up at that. “Like fuck I’m letting you pay my rent Gallagher.”

“I meant the movie jackass.”

“Oh . . . well still no. I’m not taking your money just to go see a movie.”

“You wouldn’t have to… I would—I mean I would be there too.”

Mickey groaned as the realization finally dawned on him of Ian’s ulterior motives.

“No dammit! Check please!”

“Oh come on Mickey we’ve been dating for over two months already. I love kids. I wanna . . . I wanna meet Yevy dammit.” He whined.

“Yev’s not ready yet. Who the hell said we’re dating anyway?”

The conversation continued as they moved towards their cars, Ian snatching up the bill because he’d insisted it was his turn to pay. But that didn’t stop fucking Orphan Annie oh no sir-e!

“I’ll have you know, date one through seventeen said we’re dating, you asshole. The only one not ready is you. There’s no reason I can’t meet him. I’m not gonna hurt him Mickey, jesus!”

“No one said you were gonna hurt him you idiot!”

“Then why? Why can’t I meet him huh?!”

“BECAUSE YOU’RE REALLY FUCKING GREAT ALRIGHT?!” He yelled silencing Ian completely. “You’re amazing. And he’s gonna love you, I know he is. And when this ends, if he meets you, it won’t be just me who’s devastated. And I can’t put him through that, Gallagher. Okay?! So shut the fuck up about it.”

Ian was sure that his heart broke into a million pieces in that moment. Their months have been some of the best days he’d ever had. He could feel himself falling deeper and deeper into it with Mickey. Every day his feelings him throbbed harder beneath his sternum. The fact that Mickey was sitting there already anticipating the end crushed him. He stumbled forward taking Mickey’s hand in his, something he was very rarely allowed to do, fixing his gaze on the shorter man before him.

“When it ends? It just started. Who says I’m going anywhere Mick?”

Mickey chuckled humorlessly. “History does. I’m not naïve enough to believe that this is gonna last. I know what I’m worth okay? I’m one night stands and regrets that you chase away with a bottle and I’m okay with that. One of these days you’re gonna wake up and see that this doesn’t make any sense. You being with me doesn’t make a bit of damn sense. But I want it enough to enjoy it while it lasts. Doesn’t mean I gotta put my kid through it too.”

It was actually incredibly sad. Just knowing that that’s how he saw himself, that he truly believed that’s all he was worth made Ian want him more. It made him wanna show Mickey that he was so much more than he could see.

“You’re so incredibly stupid.” Ian sighed. “I don’t care what you say about your self-worth. I like you. Do you get that? I’m trying to get closer to you, not pull away. I wanna meet Yev cause he’s a part of you. And I want you. I want all of you. I’m not going anywhere Mickey.”

He shook his head softly. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“I do. Just give me you.”

It was tempting. To give in and let himself be whisked away by Ian Gallagher. It was also absolutely petrifying.   
“Shit Ian . . .  I don’t know if it can.”

“You could try. A movie sounds like a pretty good start to me.” He smiled encouragingly.

“You’re an asshole you know that?” He chuckled. “Doesn’t anyone tell you no?”

“Nope. So stop trying Milkovich.” He grinned, leaning in to kiss him.

That’s how he ended up being shaken awake by a six year old on a Friday night who was losing his fucking mind because he read the clock wrong and thought they’d missed the most epic movie of all time. He blamed it; as he would go on to blame most things, on Ian.

Yev was very insistent on going to see a later show time because, “I’m a man now daddy just like in the first movie!” He had thought about reminding Yev that his t-shirt had talking animated sea creatures on it, but he’d made a pact with himself not to be like his father, and crushing a child’s dreams seemed to go along with that. So he and Yev set out at nine o’clock to meet the guy he was “seeing” for a movie date weird ass thingy.

“Yev you know how I went out of dinner a couple weeks ago?” Mickey asked peering at his son through the rear view mirror.

“uh huh!”

“Well I made a  . . . friend that day. And that friend wants to come watch the movie with us. Is that okay?”

“What like a girlfriend? Some guys in my class have girlfriends but the other guys think it’s icky.”

“N—No not like a girlfriend. More like a boyfriend.”

“huh?”

“Well uh . . . you know how sometimes a boy likes a girl?”

Yev nodded.

“Well sometimes a boy likes another boy. And sometimes a girl likes another girl. And there’s some other complicated shit too but that’s another day.”

“Oh. . .  so you like a boy and he’s gonna watch the movie with us?”

“Yea. That okay?”

The few seconds before Yev answered were the longest of Mickey’s entire life. His throat felt constricted, a golf ball size lump choking with every passing tick of time.

“Anyone who likes SpongeBob is okay in my book.”

It was the biggest relief ever. He hadn’t meant to explain the gay thing to him right then and there but Yev hadn’t really given him any choice. The relief he felt to have a son that accepted him in a way his so-called family had not was the ending of his existential crisis. Yev was the only family he had now. That was okay in his book.

“Daddy come we’re gonna miss the movie!” Yev whined tugging at Mickey’s arm.

He chuckled letting himself be dragged inside where a sea of children tugging their own personal driver awaited.

His eyes scanned the crowd catching sight of red hair leaning against the wall.

“Hey.” Ian smiled warmly.

“Hi.” Mickey mumbled trying not to be so heavily affected by that smile.

“Hey, I know you!”

Ian turned his attention to the little boy holding Mickey’s hand. He had dark hair, just as dark as Mickey’s and eyes just as wonderfully blue. Ian couldn’t help but immediately find himself wrapped around the small child’s tiny finger. He was fuckin’ adorable.

“Hey I know you too! You’re Yevgeny right? Yev for short.” He grinned leaning down to Yev’s height.

“Yea! You’re Ian. Are you the boy my daddy likes?”

Mickey felt his face heat up immediately, his little traitor of a son already trying to make this the most uncomfortable situation ever. Ian found this to be especially amusing.

“I don’t know Yev I think so. Do you think your daddy might like me?”

Yev peered over at Mickey, eyeing him for a second before leaning to whisper something dramatically in Ian’s ear. Those two were trying to kill him that much was clear. Whatever Yev had said had Gallagher cracking up which set Mickey’s teeth on edge.

“Okay, great let’s go watch the movie huh?”

“Oh yea here I got our tickets already.”

He gave Mickey a reassuring smile as if to tell him not to worry about the money and they were off. Despite the late hour the theater was filled to the brim with kids and their parents. Yev noticed that their seats were big and plush and there was a tray built into it. It was very rare that they went to the movies and it became abundantly clear that the movie theater wasn’t like on they’d been to before.

“Daddy what is this?” He asked swinging the tray back and forth.

“Uhmmm… I don’t actually know.”

“Oh it’s for food.” Ian smiled leaning over to show Yev. “You see this button? You press it and someone will come and let you order anything you want. Wanna look at a menu?”

“Yea that sounds awesome! Daddy can I?”

Mickey peered over at his son who was so excited for something he couldn’t afford. Before he could even think to shake his head Ian was interrupting again.

“Sure he can, right? My treat remember?”

There didn’t seem to be any point in arguing with the fuckhead so Mickey just rolled his eyes and nodded. Yev seemed to have the time of his life that night. He had a burger the size of his head all to himself. It was SpongeBob so the kid was already losing his fucking mind. And of course Ian, the jackass, had insisted on getting him anything he wanted so he was jacked up on sugar like a junkie too. It would’ve been annoying if Mickey didn’t love seeing his kid so happy.

The movie wasn’t too bad but Mickey found himself more interested in the redhead next to him. With Yev between them it stopped them from doing something stupid like holding hands or God forbid kissing again. It didn’t; however, stop how badly he wanted to. And Ian was surprisingly good with Yevgeny too. There didn’t seem to be anything he couldn’t do. He was out with is son and his kind-of-boyfriend-but-not-really-because-we-never-defined-the-relationship and he was having just as much fun. It was weird as all fuck.

When the movie ended Ian walked back with them to Mickey’s car, a sleepy Yev in his arms watching quietly as he buckled his son into the seat.

“I hope you had fun Yev.” Ian smiled. “It was really nice to hang out with you.”

“Mkay.” He yawned already three quarters of the way to sleep. “You’re cool.”

Mickey chuckled closing the door and leaning against it as Ian smirked at him playfully.

“Did you hear that? I’m cool. I think I just go the seal of approval Mick.”

“You fed him poprocks and soda. You got the approval of a junkie coming down off his high.”

“Yea?” He grinned stepping closer to Mickey. “Maybe we could go for ice-cream tomorrow then? See how he really feels.”

“Don’t I owe you enough money?” Mickey asked, but he was smiling too.

“You don’t owe me anything Mickey.”

“Fine . . .  but I’m buying.”

Ian rolled his eyes. “Sure, whatever makes you happy.”

“You make me happy.” He admitted softly ready to punch Gallagher if he tried to make the situation any sappier than it already was.

“Good. Mission accomplished.”

Ian leaned in pressing his lips against Mickey’s for a brief moment. Goosebumps ghosted over Mickey’s arms and he couldn’t have blamed it on the temperature even if he wanted to. Ian’s lips were becoming more addictive with every kiss.

“So uh if I were to follow you home would you let me in?”

“Probably.” Mickey answered honestly “But I don’t think that’s a good idea Gallagher.”

“I think it is.”

“I gotta put my kid to bed Ian.” He mumbled, their noses still touching.

“I can wait.”

And he had no idea what would make him think he should say yes. Every rule Mickey had was totally against letting Gallagher onto home turf. But Yev had weakened him. He’d expected the six year old to be critical and weary of the giant ginger. Instead Ian had charmed him exactly the way he’d charmed Mickey. He had them both hooked and because of that Mickey found himself struggling to stay a closed book he’d been so sure he needed to be. Plus he just really fucking wanted him. Bad.

“Alright. But you can’t stay, deal?”

“Deal. Hurry up let’s go.” Ian grinned kissing Mickey and running back toward his car.

Mickey rolled his eyes as he got into the car. Fucking Gallagher.

*                                                                               **

Mickey closed Yev’s door softly, making his way back to the living room where Gallagher was waiting. He’d known his apartment was shitty, but nothing so beautiful had ever been in his home like Ian Gallagher waiting for him in his living room. He was like gorgeous or whatever. And there was no more pushing him away. He’d forced himself inside and now Mickey didn’t have a safe place to hide. He was right there.

“SpongeBob was really fascinating. I think the ideology of the hero’s journey is so amazing, don’t you?”

Mickey rolled his eyes, eyebrows rising impressively as he flipped the light in the living room before climbing to straddle Ian’s thighs.

“You come to talk about the hero’s journey or put your tongue in my mouth?”

“I mean I thought we might at least discuss the hierarchy of the bikini bottom but we can do this too.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Mickey mumbled connecting their lips together.

Kissing Ian was spectacular. It didn’t make any sense, the things that man could do. His lips were sweet and soft, opening slightly to allow Mickey in. They’d never been that close before, skin touching at way too many points for the heat not to be overwhelming. Mickey got more aggressive, so Ian got more aggressive and in turn things became stifling. They were gripping each other too hard but nowhere near hard enough, fingers digging into flesh trying to leave their marks.

Tugging and biting and pulling at each other as they failed to quench the desire pulsing through their veins they continued to kiss. It was too much. Mickey could feel Ian’s hands caressing his ass and pulling him closer. His hips were losing control bucking against Ian with a jerky rhythm. It was too much. His thighs were clamped around Ian’s waist, fingers yanking at the red strands before him. It was too much. But shit it wasn’t enough.

“I—Ian. Ian fuck you gotta stop.” Mickey moaned throwing himself harder again that touch.

Ian groaned, latching his mouth on Mickey’s neck and sucking as they continued to grind against one another. Mickey could feel Ian’s hard-on rutting blissfully against his own. The friction was wonderful, his fingers gripping the back of Ian’s hair with every thrust. He couldn’t stop, and before he knew it he was shuddering again Ian’s ear, breath wet and hot as he came in his jeans like some teenaged virgin. Ian followed directly after him pulling their lips back together to hide his moans. It was the best orgasm Mickey’d had in years.

“Shit . . . Shit.” He panted into Ian’s neck.

They eased slowly off their high basking in the afterglow in each other’s arms. It was the quiet in the apartment except for the sounds of them each struggling to get their breath back. Mickey lay silently his head resting on Ian’s shoulder. He began to have a bit of a crisis as the fog dissipated. Because it had been fucking amazing and Ian hadn’t even touched him yet, which made his body crave things. And although Mickey would never say he was the best father in the world he wasn’t about to fuck with his kid in the next room.

“Why’d you offer to get Yev all that shit at the movies?” He asked in a desperate attempt to distract himself from things like sex and the cum running down his thighs.

“Well . . . I’m Southside. And growing up I lived in a house with five other kids where we had to band together to survive. That didn’t leave a lot of time for extras. Kids should be allowed to be kids, ya know? And I guess what I’ve learned with the company is that money doesn’t necessarily buy happiness, but I can buy the moments that make people happy. I just wanted to give you and Yev that moment. Happiness looks good on you Mickey.”

Well shit.

“You gotta go.” Mickey huffed lifting himself off Ian’s lap.

“What? Why?”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “I got things I wanna do Gallagher. With you. To you. Have you do things to me. And I refuse to do any of it with my son here. So you gotta leave before we do something dumb.”

Ian was looking at him with that hunger in his eyes, that same thing that had convinced Mickey that letting him over at all was good idea. That look was fucking trouble and he knew it, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love it.

“Can I clean up at least?” Ian smirked.

Mickey had flashing images of a naked Ian in his shower, running his fingers over his body trailing slowly down the natural curve of his . . .

“Nope! Not happening come on Gallagher.”

Ian just laughed as Mickey pulled him towards the door finding his utter lack of control to be completely adorable. It wasn’t until he got to the door that he stopped and turned toward him leaning back into his space.

“You’re gonna come over to my place. Soon. I’ve got things I wanna do to you too.” He whispered biting his lip and looking Mickey up and down before disappearing out the door.

Mickey let out a huge breath collapsing against the door on shaky legs. He would go wherever Gallagher asked him to, and they both fucking knew it. The surprising thing to Mickey was that he was falling for Ian Gallagher. Hard. And the other surprising thing was that he didn’t really want to stop it. Gallagher was nice. He was warm and kind of annoyingly sweet. It was getting too hard to pretend that he could keep pulling away. He just wanted Ian.

*                                                                                             **

Lip always had terrible timing. Whether it was walking in when Ian was in the middle of jacking off when they were kids or dumping a new project on his hands just as he finished the first one, he always liked to interrupt him when he was doing something. So it shouldn’t have really come to a surprise that the day he was taking Yev and Mickey out for ice-cream, the day he was so excited to gain more trust from his boyfriend, that his asshole of a brother would need him for something. Of course.

“What is it Lip?” He muttered already on his way to pick up the Milkovichs.

“Now is that anyway to talk to your favorite brother?”

“Liam’s my favorite. Now what is it?”

“Damn, that really hurt. Alright, I need you to go into the office. We got a meeting with the guys from Coop Enterprises. We need a presentation so we can seal the deal.”

“And you can’t do it because?”

Lip snorted. “Because out of the two of us I’m the only one with a life outside the office.”

“I’m actually out right now.”

“Really with who?”

But he’d yet to tell Lip about Mickey and he wasn’t planning on it in the near future. His brother was kind of a dick.

“None of your goddamn business.”

“Exactly. So you’ll do it?”

“Don’t have a choice now do I?”

“Nope. Knew I could count on you.”

“Yea fuck you.” He mumbled ending the call.

He arrived just in time to tell Mickey that he had to cancel only to be met with the cutest shit he’d ever seen in his entire life. Yev yanked the door opening beaming at Ian and instantly jumping on him with excitement.

“Daddy, Ian’s here!” Yev cheered. “Dad said we’re going to get ice-cream, is that true?”

Fuck.

“Yev I—”

“Yevgeny, what did I tell you about opening the door without knowing who’s behind it?” Mickey yelled.

Yev sighed. “Either punch nuts first ask questions later or wait for you.”

Then Mickey came into view and he had on a plaid long sleeved shirt draped over an old Metallica shirt and black jeans with a rip at the knee that were tight and squeezed in on all the right places and  . . . sweet mother of jesus. Ian had never seen anyone so beautiful in all of his life. He’d gelled his hair back and showered and wow was he amazing. It only made the whole thing that much harder.

“Hey.”

He smiled at Ian breaking his heart even further because he wasn’t gonna get to be with him all day.

“Can we talk for a minute?”

Mickey seemed to automatically know that something was off cause he quickly sent Yev out of the room before stepping closer to Ian.

“What’s wrong?”

“My fucking brother.” He mumbled eyes on his hands. “Thinks just cause he’s the brains behind the company that he never has to do any of the dirty work. I never fucking learned to say no. It’s my fault.”

“I’m confused.”

Ian looked up with a groan. “And you look so fucking good in those jeans. We were gonna eat ice-cream and hold hands and get close and now I gotta do this stupid fucking presentation when all I wanna do is be with you. It’s not fair dammit.”

He was silenced by Mickey leaning up on the tips of his toes to kiss him.

“Jesus Gallagher, stop being such a fucking girl.” He huffed. “So what you gotta work, is that it?”

He nodded glumly fixing Mickey with a frown so adorable it could rival most kittens.

“Well what if we just go get ice-cream and then go work. Yev and I keep pretty good company, and we don’t do shit on Saturdays anyway.”

Ian’s eyes widened at the offer. He’d expected Mickey to get mad, to pull away with some weird idea that Ian didn’t want to be with him. He hadn’t been expecting him to try and make it work. But he liked it.

“Are you sure? It could take all day. I mean I probably won’t be much fun.”

“You’re not fun anyway.” He smirked leaning in to kiss Ian again. “You worry too much.”

“I need more of that, it calms me down.”

Mickey allowed himself to be pulled closer enjoying Ian’s lips before they were interrupting by a six year old’s gagging.

“Ew get a room you two!” Yev whined.

Mickey rolled his eyes, detangling himself from Ian. “He watches too much tv.”

They went out for ice-cream despite the fact that it was already cold in Chicago, September turning the air crisp and heavy. Yev was obsessed with Ian, and his car which, and quote “makes daddy’s car look like poop” end quote. They went to some sit down diner type place and Mickey sprung for lunch too, making Yev super happy. He loved his dad and he loved seeing his dad have a boyfriend even if he didn’t really get what it all meant. All he knew was Ian was nice and he made his dad smile. On and he bought them stuff. For a six year old he might as well have been Jesus.

Mickey watched Ian interact with Yev as they ate. He was good at making him laugh and making sure he was comfortable without forcing himself on him. It was nice. Things almost felt simple between them. He watched as Ian carved his way into his life and he was helpless to stop him. Mickey had a feeling that’s just how Gallagher was. He found a place he liked and he just made himself comfortable and no one ever stopped him because he was warm and nice and perfect. He found that he didn’t really want to. It would hurt eventually, he still had no doubt about that, but he thought that maybe if he tried really hard to make himself good enough maybe one day he actually would be.

They drove to Ian’s job after that Yev buzzing with an iPad he’d been given to play with to keep him busy. Ian showed him how to watch SpongeBob on it and Mickey watched as he completely lost his son to the evils of technology.

It was a big building. Tall and massive with windows that peered out at the city. Ian’s office had the biggest window of all too. The entire thing was just one big clear box that looked over the entire floor with blinds to shut him off from reality. That’s where he found himself that day sitting on the floor surrounded by stacks of papers and file after file. But Mickey was next to him and he could hear Yev sitting over at his desk giggling at whatever shenanigans SpongeBob and Patrick had gotten themselves into. It was nice. He couldn’t help but think that, and think that he wanted more days just like that one.

“S how come your brother couldn’t do all this shit again?”

“Like I said he’s the brains. He’s the reason we’re at this point. He built this company from the ground up and like most things was just nice enough to bring me along for the ride. He’s also my older brother so he’s always had a way of making me feel like no matter what I do I’ll never be as good as Lip. It’s the middle child syndrome, I think. I don’t know, he takes advantage of my inability to say no ,I guess.”

“Hmmm . . . sounds like an asshole.”

Ian chuckled. “You don’t know the half of it. What about you, you never told me about your siblings.”

“None worth mentioning. My family and I . . . let’s just say we’re not one.”

“How come?”

Mickey peered over at Yev, checking to see if he was paying them any attention.

“Let’s just say not everyone’s as acceptable of me taking it up the ass alright?”

Ian looked over at him, green eyes capturing his blue ones instantly.

“I’m really sorry you had to go through that Mick. No one deserves to tell you who you can or can’t be with.”

He chuckled at him darkly. “You don’t know my old man.”

“No I guess not. How’d Yev come to be then, were you still in the closet?”

“Well kinda. I mean Terry ran this thing call the Rub n’ tug. Pretty self-explanatory, right? Svetlana worked for my dad and caught me in Boystown one night. And when she didn’t rat me out, she somehow ended up being the only person who knew me as I really was. I—I had to keep up appearances, keep my old man off my trail. Figured if I gave her one kid it’d keep him from killing me. Long story short she got pregnant, it was too much for her, so she had Yev and got out and I kept him and we moved here. It was either that or take up the family business. And I couldn’t do that to him. So I left.”

“And your siblings?”

“Probably still back at home. Only one I ever talked to was my sister and she hates my guts for leaving so.” He shrugged.

Ian nodded moving to lean his head on Mickey’s shoulder. “I’m sleepy.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.” He purred closing his eyes. “Fifteen minute break, kay?”

Mickey let his mind wander as Ian used him as his own personal pillow. He had a feeling leaning on Mickey had less to do with being sleepy and more to do with comforting Mickey in his own way. And he was so grateful for that. He hadn’t told anyone about his Southside life. He hadn’t thought about his siblings in months, his dad longer than that. Sometimes he had to remind himself that he was safe now. That he and Yev were okay. He thought maybe he could be more than okay. Maybe Ian could be more. But he was scared that letting himself be happy meant he had to be vulnerable. And for a Milkovich that was the scariest thing of all.

Mickey stayed with Ian all night. He knew he needed to go home, but Yev had fallen asleep and without him awake to complain, it was easy to pretend that it was okay to stay there and wait. They ordered in take out and talked more as Ian finished up the project. By the time they made their way home more lines had been blurred and Mickey wasn’t sure if he could ever say no to Ian, at all.

“Today was nice.” Ian murmured.

“Yea,” Mickey nodded. “It was.”

“Next weekend, I—if you find a sitter of course I mean maybe you could, you could come over to my place.”

Mickey ran his thumb along his bottom lip nervously nodding his head.

“I’d like that. I just . . . give me a little time to figure things out okay? I’ll let you know sometime next week.”

“Oh okay. I’ll call you tomorrow, tell you how the presentation went.”

Mickey smiled. “Yea okay.”

“Okay.”

But he had that fucking toothless grin that drove Mickey’s heart up a wall and it was too late to deal with that shit.

“Okay go the fuck home Gallagher.” He chuckled cheeks reddening.

“Bye Mick.”

Mickey waited until he was gone to smile to himself. It’d been awhile since he could just smile openly. It felt good to be happy

The next week was hectic. Mickey was swamped at work, so was Ian, and that left little time for them to talk. Most days, after he got Yev to bed he’d collapse into bed with a grunt and fall immediately to sleep. Yev was learning about dinosaurs that week at school which meant he wanted to know everything he could about them, but not everyone has a iPad to give a six year-old so he had to drag his father to the library like the ancient times. Mickey was also trying to decide if he wanted to spend the night with Ian. As far as he was concerned it was one of the biggest steps he could take. Not because of the sex, sex wasn’t a big deal with Mickey, but staying the night meant something. It meant just that, staying. Spending the night with Gallagher meant they might have to figure shit out, determine what they were to each other, and he didn’t know if he was ready for that.  

He was also very wary of the conversation that would have to be had with Sara. Five years on the Northside and she was pretty much his only friend besides the occasional co-worker that wanted to see if the rumors were true about his tattoos. As far as a baby sitting was concerned he trusted her more than anyone. He also trusted her to run her big fat fucking mouth about it, which is exactly what happened.

“What, no lunch with loverboy today?” She smirked when Mickey fell down into a seat next to her.

“Nope, loverboy has a company to run. I’m slummin’ it with you today.”

She rolled her eyes. “Glad I could be of such importance to you baby.”

“If only you had a penis.” He sighed wistfully.

“Hey I might you don’t know my life.”

“Right.”

He sat there picking at his lunch and trying to figure out how to broach the subject. Mickey still didn’t know whether or not he was going to go, but he wanted to know if it was even a possibility. He hadn’t been without Yev for a weekend since the few months after his birth when he could barely look at him, when he was nothing but a reminder of how much of a coward he was. A weekend? Three days was long a time. If he was gonna do it he needed Yev to be in good hands.

“Jesus whatever it is just ask me already it! Whatever it is, you’re making my brain hurt just watching you.”

  
Mickey shrugged his shoulders failing at nonchalance. “What are you doing this weekend?”

She grinned. “I don’t know why don’t you tell me?”

“You think—maybe you could watch Yev for me? I’m not completely sure yet but ya know if I need it?”

“Sure. Yevy’s my best friend. What day?”

“Well uh . . . you know Friday a—and Saturday. And then I would be back sometime Sunday.”

Sara looked up from her salad, fixing Mickey with that look that said she knew exactly what he was going to be doing that weekend. He felt the heat tingle at the shell of his ears working its way deep to his face. He hadn’t even agreed to go yet, and he was already regretting the fucking decision.

“Uh huhhhh. And just where would you be on Friday and Saturday?” She asked a wicked glint in her eyes.

“You know where the fuck I’d be. Don’t make me say it.”

“You can get a dick up your ass, or put your dick up an ass i don’t know your preference, but you can’t say you’re spending the weekend with your boyfriend? Jeez Mickey, you sure are something. Of course I’ll watch Yevy. You have to go. You need to get laid even more than I do. You gotta get back on the horse my friend. The tall, pale, freckly ginger-haired model looking horse.” She complained.

Mickey just groaned. “You are way too deeply invested in my love life.”

“Yea well that’s what you get for not any having any other friends. Now you call that amazingly toned boyfriend and tell him you will arrive bright and early for sex.”

“Alright, alright Jesus I’ll do it after break.”

“Noooooo,” she murmured picking his phone up and shoving it in his face. “Now.  Or I’ll do it for you.”

Sara sometimes reminded him of Mandy in the sense that you never really knew what she was capable of until you tested her. But once you did, you would regret it. So he took the phone and found Ian’s number completely ignoring the obnoxiously smug look on her face.

“There’s my man.” Ian replied cheerfully. “I was beginning to think you’d disappeared.”

“Nah man. Kid and work have been running me into the ground is all. I was uh actually calling to see if you still wanted to do that thing this weekend.”

There was a pause on the line, and for a second Mickey was sure he’d changed his mind.

“If by that thing you mean fucking you relentlessly into my mattress with snack breaks than yes. Yes I do.”

Mickey felt a bright flash of relief and then the heat of Ian’s word settling right at the surface of his cheeks.

“Jesus Christ Ian.” He huffed under his breath.

“What? What’d he say?! He’s making sex jokes isn’t he? You’re blushing!” Sara squealed.

“I take it you have company.” Ian chortled.

“Fuck you. Both of you. Look just text me the address and I’ll come over Friday after Yevy’s settled.”

“Okay . . . Hey Mick?”

“Yea?”

“I can’t wait to see you. I miss you.” He murmured shyly.

Before he could help himself a smile etched itself big and wide on Mickey’s face. He tried relentlessly to keep his voice steady as he responded knowing he had an audience.

“Yea me too. I’ll text you tonight, promise.”

“Kay. Bye.”

Mickey set the phone down nibbling harshly at his bottom lip. He was struggling with the urge to go right up to Gallagher’s job and fuck him right then and there, when Sara said what was on both of their minds.

“Awwww sweetie…you’re so fucked.”

*                                                                                 **

Friday couldn’t come fast enough. And the world seemed hell bent on trying to see how far Mickey could bend before he snapped. Wednesday Yev had a fever of a hundred and two which scared the absolute fuck out of Mickey. He’d never been so terrified in his whole entire life. And he’d been shot . . . more than once. And of course he’d forgotten to pay the bill so their internet was out and he couldn’t work from home leaving him completely behind for Thursday. Then his son decided to be the neediest, whiniest complaningiest damn sick person ever. He loved his son to the fucking moon and back but Christ. A person can only make so many different types of soups because “I changed my mind I don’t want that one” before he goes mad. And worst of all that was his boy and seeing him sick just blatantly broke his heart. It was rough.

As if to make matters worse he only had two people he could call to ask about what to do when your kid has a temperature hot enough to fucking boil water and neither of them had kids. One was Sara and the other was Gallagher. He should’ve called Sara. an showed up with bags of popsicles and child’s cough syrup and his iPad because that was totally gonna fix things. He was genuinely concerned too which only made Mickey feel weird and light inside.

“I talked to my sister. My niece Ella just got over something similar, she said this did the trick. And the popsicles are for the sore throat.” He explained handing them over to Mickey.

“You really didn’t need to do that.” He mumbled gauging how much it probably cost. How much everything he’d bought them so far probably cost.

“I wanted to.”

Mickey sighed heading towards the kitchen shaking his head. It’d been a stressful day, he was practically begging for it. It was practically guaranteed.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“You can’t keep buying us stuff like that. I can’t pay you back alright? We’re good, we don’t need handouts.”

Ian raised an eyebrow cutting Mickey with an irritable glare.

“A handout? That’s what you think this is a handout? No one’s giving you a fucking hand out Mickey! I wanted to make sure that Yevgeny was okay. That’s it.”

“I can take care of my kid Gallagher. I was doing just fine before you got here.”

“No one said you couldn’t asshole. You know every time someone tries to help you doesn’t mean they have some ulterior motive to steal your masculinity or whatever the fuck it is you think I’m doing. Sometimes people just care about you! Is that okay? Am I allowed to care about my own fucking boyfriend?”

And all the stress just builds up until Mickey cracks under the pressure. It’s stress and it’s fear. Fear of what Gallagher’s words mean. No one’s ever given a shit about Mickey before. He doesn’t even know what the words means. He’s Mickey Milkovich. Tough. Scary. Strong. And so damn fragile. He didn’t know how to let anyone take care of him. He didn’t know how to accept compliments or help or anything but viciousness. He knew that Ian wanted to be open and accepting, and he wanted to. Every day they were together he wanted it even more. But he didn’t know how.

It slips out of Ian’s mouth before he can stop himself and Mickey doesn’t know how to react to that, so he doesn’t the only thing he knows. He yells. Yelling was easy. Yelling was instinctual; he could most definitely handle yelling.

“I ain’t your fucking boyfriend you hear me?! And I don’t need your fucking money I can take care of my son just fine. You want some bitch to pimp out you take that shit to those Northside queens a couple blocks over cause we’re not fucking interested!”

“Fuck you Mickey. Fuck you! You wanna get mad over some two dollar generic popsicles and a three dollar bottle of cough syrup fine, be my guest but don’t you dare sit there and try and tell we’re not together, like this isn’t something to you. I’m not putting up with your bullshit today. Get your shit together before Friday you hear me?! I’m not doing this with you.”

He stomped out of the kitchen and the front door slamming it so hard it rattled in his hinges. Mickey huffed kicking angrily at the cabinet to vent his frustrations. Yev showed up then, red-nosed and wrapped in a blanket like the most adorably pathetic thing Mickey had ever seen.

“What’re you doing up buddy?” Mickey sighed picking Yev up and setting him on the counter so that his bare toes dangled over the edge.

He coughed. “I heard you and Ian yelling. Were you guys having a fight, daddy?”

Mickey groaned wishing desperately that he could have avoided the conversation entirely.

“Yea seems like it huh?” He mumbled petting his son’s wild, untamed hair. “Nothing you gotta worry about though.”

“What were you fighting about?”

“Pride.” He snorted to himself realistically. “Ian just . . . he wants to buy us stuff. Stuff we don’t need. And I don’t want any help taking care of you ya know? You’re my son. I don’t need anyone to tell me what to do anymore cause I’m finally figuring out how to do it on my own. With you of course. It was me and you when we first moved into this dump and it’ll be me and you after. No one gets to tell me how to raise you. It’s you and me first always.”

Yev seemed to think and actually contemplate what Mickey had said, the whole time running his itty bitty finger absentmindedly over his knuckle tattoos. That always amazed Mickey. Coming from such an erratic home where you fucked people up first and asked questions later to somehow having a kid who had the ability to empathize and like actually understand people didn’t make sense. Leave it to his Yevgeny to understand his relationship better than him.

“I don’t think that’s what he’s doing though daddy. Like you know how sometimes I want candy and you get it even though we don’t gots enough money? You do it cause you love me, not so you can make me do stuff later. There’s a kid in my class who daddy’s makes lots of money so he tells people if they be’s his friend he’ll get them stuff but then he’s really mean to them and makes them do things for him instead. Ian never does that. He’s really nice to us all the time. You get me candy cause you want me to be happy. Maybe Ian buys us stuff cause he wants us to be happy.” Then he nodded seemingly pleased with himself and his answer. “Yea he just wants to show us how much he likes us cause we’re cool.”

Mickey couldn’t help but laugh eyeing his son with soft eyes. Few people in the world could get through that thick ass head of Mickey’s. Yev was one of them. Yev was the best one.

“So I’m a big dummy for being mad at Gallagher?”

“Not dumb daddy.” He giggled. “Just . .  . strubborn.”  

Mickey chuckled. “You mean stubborn?”

“Yea that one!”

“Yea okay, let’s get some medicine in you and get you to bed.”

“NO!” Yev groaned slipping down to the floor before Mickey could get a hold of him. “You’ll never take me alive Daddy!”

So much for being stubborn.

That night when he was lying in bed exhausted from a terrifying day of Yevgeny being sick there was only one person in the world he wanted to talk to. Jesus He was fucking whipped.

Mickey: Shouldn’t have exploded on you like that. You were only trying to help. Sorry.

Ian: That was fast. Expected you to at least hold out until Friday morning.

Mickey: Yev told me I was be strubborn. Yes that is the correct spelling.

Ian: lol I like him more and more every day. Lucky for you I’m pretty understanding. I’ll let you make it up to me.

Mickey: Friday?

Ian: And Saturday.

Ian: And Sunday.

Ian: And Monday if I see fit. Night Mick.

Mickey slept better that night.

*                                                                                   **

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay? Cause I can stay. I can call Ian right now and tell him to fuck off.”

“Like hell you can. We’re gonna be fine Mickey. Yev and I are just gonna watch movies and rot our teeth with all the sugar we can handle. Isn’t that right, Yevy?”

Yevgeny nodded enthusiastically with a giggle. “I’ll be fine, Daddy. It’s like we’re both having sleepover. It’s gonna be the funnest. Go!”

Sara gave him a smirk as if to suggest all the sleep he wasn’t going to be having. Mickey just sighed. He was being kicked out of his own house by his six year old and nosy ass best friend.

“Alright just . . . just call me if you need anything okay? I don’t care what time it is, call me and I’ll answer. If you want me to come home early don’t be afraid to tell me. I will.”

“Okay. Love you, daddy.”

“Love you too half pint.”

He worried about Yev the entire car ride. Until the gps took him deeper and deeper into the Northside, the houses getting bigger and more intimidating with pillars. Then he was worried about Ian, and all the time he had, and all the money Mickey didn’t. It was pitiful to try and compare the two. Ian was amazing and rich and outgoing. Mickey was poor and anti-social, and kinda a jackass. It didn’t take much to understand the power imbalance there.

He pulled up to some swanky building that looked more like a hotel than an apartment building. His shitty Honda ended up parked next to a BMW with rims and he was suddenly very self-conscious of the only pair of skinny jeans he owned, thanks to Mandy, and his ratty t-shirt and plaid long-sleeved shirt on top. Gallagher had seemed attracted to it at the time, but the guy who held the door opened for him didn’t seem too intrigued.

“Can I help you, sir?” An overly cheerful woman asked at the front desk.

“Uh Ian?” He coughed, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Ian Gallagher. I’m here to see Ian Gallagher.”

She took one look at his knuckles and grinned, her face getting even brighter.

“Ohhh you must be Mr. Milkovich. I’ve been instructed to send you right up. You can take that elevator right there to the final floor. Mr. Gallagher is in the penthouse, on the twentieth floor on the right.”

“Uh okay. Thanks.”

His hands were properly sweating by the time he got on the elevator. And of course there was a mirror so he could watch himself freak the entire fuck out. He didn’t fix his hair though cause he wasn’t a fucking pussy. Maybe he puffed his chest out a little bit and checked his teeth but that was it. And then he was knocking on Ian’s door, his heart pounding his throat waiting for the inevitable moment where he’d embarrass himself. He was contemplating how fast he’d have to run to get back to elevator when the door opened, showing the object of his affections…and his headaches. There he was in sweatpants and a green tank top that made his eyes light up like emerald pools. Jesus Christ, he was gorgeous. Goddammit.

“Finally.” Ian groaned snatching Mickey’s wrist and dragging him inside.

The door slammed and Mickey was instantly pressed into it. Wow he smells good. Then Ian’s lips were on his and it was more intoxicating than any drug Mickey had ever had. Ian was hungry with it, teeth nipping at Mickey’s bottom slip sharply before sucking to ease the wound. His fingers were soft rubbing smooth circles into Mickey’s scalp. Mickey let his hands wander desperately wanting to familiarize himself with Ian’s body. Easing under the fabric of his shirt his hands slipped over Ian’s pale skin. He was losing his mind getting completely lost in Ian’s body and he’d only been there a few seconds.

Ian wasn’t any better, licking his was inside Mickey’s mouth and groaning obscenely. He’d waited too long. He wanted to cover Mickey, to interlock their bodies for the entire weekend. He wanted to feel him in his bones, wanted hear the sound of his name being gasped out from his crimson lips. The blood from his brain was flowing downwards fast, leaving him unable to think. All he could do was break the seal of their lips and shove Mickey roughly to his knees taking in the celestial sight of his boyfriend tugging at his sweats hurriedly.

“I’ve been thinking about you all week long.” He groaned fingers slipping through dark strands. “’Bout your sweet lips wrapped around my cock. Bet you look so good taking me down your throat.”

Mickey reached inside his underwear slipping his fingers around Ian’s warm flesh. He groaned appreciatively as it came into view. Christ it was big. It was thick and long and a deep red from all the blood pumping through it, the tip almost purple where pre-cum oozed. He couldn’t help but think about how he’d never wanted anything so badly. It was warm in his palms as he brought it to his lips licking slowly up the shaft before popping the head in his mouth. He drooled sloppily all over it letting the saliva coat Ian before he began to bob around it. He sucked for all he was worth because it wasn’t supposed to taste that good. It wasn’t supposed to feel so heavy and thick on his tongue. And he shouldn’t have shivered when the vein on the underside of his flesh tickled his lip. He shouldn’t have, but he did and god it was so fucking good.

“Shit. Shit Mick that’s it.” He groaned hips bucking against Mickey’s face.

Mickey could feel him forcing his way deeper into his mouth messing heavily with his air supply and he fucking loved it. Ian’s hands were in his hair and he couldn’t control the way his hips twitched forward every time he bobbed up. His cock was leaking warm and thick onto Mickey’s tongue and his whole body thrummed with want. It wasn’t enough. How could it be?

He pulled off with a wet plop kissing and nipping at Ian’s thighs where the flesh was pale and creamy, marking so easily under his tongue.

“You gonna fuck my ass any time soon or are we just gonna continue with the foreplay?” Mickey panted against Ian’s thigh.

Ian raised an eyebrow before tugging him forward again. Mickey’s eyes remained zeroed in on Ian’s dick hard and standing at attention. He stripped himself as they walked needing to have less material between him and Gallagher. Ian had that grin plastered over his face watching Mickey become so entranced by that thing that hung between his legs. No wonder the fucker was cocky.

Then, because he couldn’t remain control of the situation for long, he slid his hands achingly slow up Mickey’s hips before tossing him roughly to his bed. That is where he came into contact with the most beautiful ass he’d ever seen in his life. Move the fuck over Kim Kardashian because Mickey Milkovich’s pants are off and there’s a new queen coming for the thrown. It was ridiculous. And soft. And fat. And molded perfectly to the shape of Ian’s hands.

He groaned. “Jesus your ass is amazing.”

“Wait till you see what it can do. Let’s get a move on Gallagher.” Mickey grumbled kicking those adorable little legs of his out impatiently.

Ian fit his hand to the small of Mickey’s back pressing him firmly into the mattress.

“What part of I got things I wanna do to you didn’t you hear? Face down ass up Milkovich.”

“Fuck,” He groaned throatily. “A dominant little fucker you are.”

“You have no idea.”

He kissed his way up Mickey’s thighs hands following suit. At the curve of his ass, right where it met his thigh Ian bit sharply taking in the mark before sucking at the flesh to ease the pain. Spreading Mickey’s cheeks he breathed warm and slow against his puckered hole loving the way he seemed to spasm at Ian’s touch. He started with a kiss, and then a swift swipe of his tongue before completely salivating over his lover’s hole. Mickey’s fingers tore into the pillow before him trying desperately to keep his legs from shaking because absolutely no one had ever done that before.

Mickey could feel him digging his fingers harshly into his ass and spreading him open as he tongue fucked him into the mattress. It was absurd the way it made him feel. A cock was one thing but that man’s tongue was just dirty. He wormed it languidly inside of him stretching his hole open with every thrust of his muscle and Mickey was losing his fucking mind. Foreplay had never felt so good. Well technically he’d never really had foreplay, but whatever the fuck it was, it was revolutionary.

“Ian, I—Ian fuuuuck.” He groaned fingers reached aimlessly to clutch at his hair.

His hips were bucking uncontrollably and he couldn’t seem to get close enough to Ian’s mouth. He’d never felt anything like it, had never had anyone take the time to ruin his body so rough and tender. Ian was destroying him slowly and he couldn’t have asked for anything better. Ian’s lips ghosted over Mickey’s ass sucking tenderly at the skin before going in hard again with his tongue licking at the rim and sucking the skin profusely with his teeth. And the entire time Mickey was just withering against the bed, fingers grasping at sheets desperately trying to ground himself. Ian pushed in deeper easing a finger in next to his tongue working Mickey open with every passing breath. It was one finger and then it was two and three and Mickey couldn’t remember feeling so full. All he knew was that Gallagher was bending curving his fingers and touching places inside of him that his had never reached before. All he knew was that Gallagher was driving him insane.

“Shit!” Mickey growled, teeth clenched. “Fuck gonna cum.”

Ian flipped him over with ease, quickly slipping his dick into his mouth. Mickey didn’t have a chance in hell.

He licked his lips, the taste of Mickey tangy and amazing on his tongue. He can’t keep his eyes off him, which makes grabbing lube and condoms quite the magic trick as far as he’s concerned. All he wanted was to be inside him, to feel the slick heat of his body enveloping him fully. He didn’t think he’d ever wanted anything so badly in his whole life. Mickey.

Ian eased Mickey onto his front spreading his legs with his knees and taking in the view. Mickey’s ass was the national treasure Nicholas Cage never found, and Ian was properly obsessed with it. He pressed himself in panting roughly as the sensation coursed bright and hard in his veins. It was filthy what Mickey was making him feel. That tight sopping hole just barely allowing him in and then immediately pulsing as it contracted around him. Fuck Mickey was tight and he seemed incapable of keeping himself from babbling. Something that usually irritated him of course would only incite him further with his new lover. He was started to think Mickey could do no wrong. Then he fucked him. . . He was right.

Mickey dug his face into the pillow before him struggling to take the blatant assault that Gallagher was dishing out. That’s what it was. An assault. A beautiful, hot, sweat-inducing assault. Ian immediately set a brutal pace snapping his hips forward so that they collided viciously with Mickey’s ass. He could feel him digging into his body with his cock and it had him on the cusp of sobbing. With a firm grip on his hips Ian fucked him hard, beads of perspiration quickly layering their bodies in a shiny sheen. Nothing had ever hurt so good. It was everything he’d gone looking for in the back of allies and in bathroom stalls with peanut shells somehow littering the floor. Of course all that time what he’d been really wanting was waiting for him on the Northside in some penthouse. Go fucking figure.

He wanted all of him, desperately needing the thick length of Ian’s cock to breach the deepest pits of his body. Mickey started rocking himself back with whiny grunts. He lifted his hips trying to give it as good as he knew he could take it. His efforts were definitely well received.

“Oh fuck yes.” Ian mewled. “Throw that ass back at me.”

Mickey growled reaching behind him to pull Ian deeper into him by his hip. It felt like flames were licking at his skin spreading and expanding everywhere they touched. He wanted Ian to cover him. Wanted their skin to touch at every point possible. Ian was turning into a sobbing mess and the only thing he could think of was how to get closer, deeper. More. He just wanted more.

“I—Ian.” He moaned desperately. “Ian please.”

“Fuck you feel so good Mick. Wanna make you cum all over yourself. Want you to scream my name all fucking night.”

Mickey clenched uncontrollably biting hard enough into his lip until he felt the rusted, salty tangs of blood. Ian leaned up onto his knees yanking Mickey’s body like a ragdoll which he quickly realized he fucking loved. Ian’s arms crept up to encircle him from behind switching the angle up as he continued to plow through him. Mickey let his head fall down as if he didn’t have enough energy left to work his neck muscles. Fingers clutching at auburn locks he felt himself plunge towards his trip to ecstasy. Ian continued to buck his hips animalistic grunts foaming from his mouth as his fingers wrapped tightly around Mickey’s sadly neglected cock.

“Shit. Fuck fuck fuck right there.”

He was fucking into Ian’s hand and fucking himself back onto his cock and the stimulation was just too much. He came with a choking cry that got stuck in his throat as he shot his load all over Ian’s hand and bed. Not one to be out done Ian hand tightened on his hip dragging him back in time for his own orgasm to come rushing through. He slid from Mickey with a squelching plop both of them collapsing down on the bed with a content sigh. Mickey was pretty sure the whole world just went black and that sex surely wasn’t supposed to feel that good. He figured he’d wait to regain consciousness though, before contemplating whatever the fuck had just happened.

*                                                                                       **

Mickey woke up for the third time with the sun peering in through the vast windows of Ian’s bedroom. The first time he woke up Ian had crawled his way between his legs waking him up with the decedent touch of his lips. He’d held his hips down sucking him slowly until he came with a mangled shout and promptly fell right back to sleep. The second time had started as innocent nibbling which resulted in Mickey riding Ian into the mattress reverse cowboy style with everything he had. Needless to say they both collapsed in a pile of sweaty, messy limbs after that one. Third time is always the charm though.

He slid out of bed on shaky legs, surprised at the familiar ache in his body that was quite heavenly as far as he was concerned. There were bruises on his hips and thighs, Ian’s mark littering his pale skin in crimson reds and sultry blues. It was the first time he’d ever felt that ache so prominently in his bones. He felt satisfied, like Ian had sated his needs in a way no one had ever really accomplished before. Still he found himself feeling different. It was like Ian had curbed his appetite only to expand it exponentially. As soon as he recognized that fullness he immediately felt hungrier than ever. It was that hunger for Gallagher, that undeniably craving that had him paddling out through the house he’d barely paid any attention to hours before.

There were two stories to the penthouse, though Mickey failed to wrap his mind around how in an apartment building with apartments on every floor Ian somehow managed to get two all to himself. A winding staircase separated each of the floors, yet he didn’t remember consciously taking any stairs in his quest for dick the night before. Downstairs were wide paneled windows as tall as the ceiling that let the sun stream in on all the other expensive shit. Leather couches and marble floors centered in the living room which had a fireplace and a flat screen plastered on the wall.

It was ridiculous. Mickey hadn’t robbed places as nice as Gallagher’s place. He knew if it wasn't for the drunken feeling of his afterglow and that pleasant ache in his ass he would’ve bolted immediately. Ian’s place was worse than he’d imagined, scarier than he’d ever dreamed. It was like right out of a fucking magazine.

“There you are!” Ian called behind him. “Breakfast is ready. You hungry?”

Mickey turned to raise his eyebrows at the attractive man before him. The hunger from earlier rumbled heatedly in his belly, but he had trouble getting it to direct itself towards food.

“I could eat.”

Apparently Ian was fucking Bobby Flay in the kitchen too. Mickey wasn’t sure how long he’d been out, but Gallagher had somehow managed to create an entire feast complete with two kinds of pancakes and scrambled eggs, his personal favorite. Mickey took a seat and grabbed a plate not even attempting to be polite about it. Ian just watched him with this fond grin on his face like the most beautiful thing was a tiny man stuffing his face with chocolate chip pancakes.

“Fuck you looking at?” He asked, between swallows.

Ian simply leaned across the table and kissed him licking away the leftover traces of chocolate at the seam of his lips. He quickly made a mental note to cover Mickey’s body in chocolate and lick it off someday.

“You’re kinda beautiful in the morning.”

Mickey snorted. “Only kinda huh? Thanks man.”

Ian merely shrugged. “You’d look even better with your clothes off. Speaking from personal experience, of course.”

Mickey looked over at him, both of them judging how soon they could go back at it. It was the growling in Mickey’s stomach, this time actually associated with food, that dissipated some of the sexual tension.

“Eat. We’ve got time.” Ian smiled. “Though I probably should’ve made sandwiches or something instead of pancakes.”

“Why, what time is it?”

“Half past one. You sleep a lot after sex.”

“Shit! Yevgeny.” He mumbled lunging out of his seat.

“Fuck I forgot. Sit I’ll get your phone.”

Ian brought his pants to the kitchen letting Mickey dig through pockets to discover his three missed calls from Sara. He was sure that the house had caught on fire or worse Yevy wanted his daddy, but daddy had been too busy getting his ass reamed to answer the phone. He felt like the worse piece of shit dad in the world.

“Daddy?”

“Oh thank god are you okay? I’m so sorry I didn’t answer I—I lost track of time and I just forgot to check my phone. You want me to come home?”

Yev giggled softly. “Daddy you talk very, very fast. I just wanted to tell you about all the fun we had! Sara and I had the bestest night ever. She let me stay up extra, extra late and we watched scary movies and I wasn’t even scared. She had to hide in my shoulder cause she’s a girl and she got scared and I was there to protect her. It was awesome dad! We’re going to Mcdonalds now. They have SpongeBob toys there and I only need one more to complete my collection.”

Mickey’s heart really warmed listening to his son speak. Parenting was a hassle. It was scary and weird and he never really felt like he was doing it correctly. But Yev was just the greatest kid in the world. He was so happy and enthusiastic and everything Mickey had never been. He loved his son. He loved him a lot.

“That sounds great, bud. So you’re okay?”

“Uh huh! How was your sleepover did you and Ian play lots of games?”

“We uh… yea. It was fun. We had fun.”

Ian fixed him with a grin which Mickey repaid with a middle finger immediately feeling the warmth pulsing in his cheeks. Stupid Gallagher.

“Let me talk to Sara, okay? I’m gonna call you before bed tonight. Promise, I won’t forget.”

“Mkay. Love you.”

Mickey smiled down at his pancakes. “Love you too.”

Ian smiled loving the look on Mickey’s face when he was in Dad mode. He thinks he could get used to that look. That unwavering devotion.

He watched Mickey on the phone talking to Sara and demanding Yev be taken care of properly. He took that time to cover his bases. Mickey was the most intriguing person he’d ever met. Mickey was grumpy and funny and had the most amazing laugh and eyes and Jesus Christ he was spectacular in bed. There was a brash and harsh exterior to him that Southside grit that Ian lived for. But what he liked most, what he found him spiraling so hard into a pit of feeling over was Mickey’s soft side. He showed so few people that side that it made you feel lucky just to experience it. Mickey could be sweet, he could be affectionate, attentive. Mickey was more than Ian had ever though he could deserve. He represented happiness, and love. Yea he was falling for Mickey Milkovich. He was falling hard.

“What are you staring at me for now?” Mickey huffed setting his phone down.

Ian didn’t think, “I think I’m starting to fall in love with you” would go over too well, so he went for the next best thing.

“I wanna fuck you in front of the mirror in my bathroom.”

He got up after that leaving the kitchen and heading for his staircase only to hear the celestial sounds of Mickey running after to get to the bathroom faster.

They spent the rest of the afternoon in various spots in Ian’s bedroom, learning each other’s bodies with every passing breath. It was one of the best weekends of Mickey’s whole life, and the sex was definitely the best he’d ever had. The ache he put in his body was just beautiful. He loved every second of it. And watching them fuck was even better. Ian staring at him through the mirror, body overlapping Mickey’s keeping in one spot as he completely tore him to shreds, it drove him wild. His hands were on his shoulders or on his hips leaving bruises, leaving a mark on Mickey. They watched each other come undone and it was pure fucking ecstasy. The greatest high anyone could ask for.

“I’m really glad you came.” Ian mumbled as they lay catching their breath.

“Me too. Haven’t even tried to sneak out yet, new record for me.”

He chuckled. “Well I’m glad I haven’t scared you off yet, got kind of a bad habit of doing that.”

“How come?”

Mickey leaned his head on his hand peering over inquisitively at the ginger beside him.

“Get attached, want everything to go perfect and when it doesn’t I try to force things to go my way. I end up pushing people away. That’s a big problem for me. I always push away the people I care about. And I really don’t wanna push you away.” He replied honestly staring down at the sheets. “I really, really like you Mickey.”

He didn’t know how to tell him how much that meant. No one had ever liked him enough to stick around, no one had ever been afraid of losing Mickey. It was Mickey who stayed away from people so he didn’t get attached, so he didn’t have to deal with the pain of someone getting tired of him. He’d been part of family that looked after their own, that beat the shit out of each other but stood together simply because that’s what it meant to wear the Milkovich name. And then they shoved him out. They’d ripped him out of the family and moved on with their lives after he left. No one looked for him, no one asked him to stay. It was like he’d never been anything at all.

Ian wanting him, Ian telling him that he’s worthy of anything of whatever it is that they have is scary as all fuck, but it’s also amazing. But he didn’t know how to tell him all that. He couldn’t tell him how good it felt to just be wanted. So he took the easy way out and made a joke instead.

“Obviously you’re not the worst person in the world either jackass. I don’t let just anyone bend me over some million dollar bathtub.”

Ian snorted. “Don’t you?”

Mickey kicked Ian in the shin with his bare toes causing them both to star laughing.

“Shockingly, kids don’t leave a lot of time for sex. It’s a bummer really.”

“Damn really? They outta put that on a warning label or something, people gotta know about this stuff. Although I’m sure you’ve managed.”

“Nah man, this is the first time since Yev was like three months old.”

“I’m sorry excuse me?!”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “After Svet left and I had to be a dad full time I couldn’t just park the stroller outside some gay bar and go get my rocks off. Before Sara, it was just me and him, and I didn’t trust anyone with him. Then he became my best friend when he could like talk and shit. I don’t want anyone to hurt him or mess up what I’ve built for us. Relationships they’re just . . . messy.”

“That why you don’t wanna be my boyfriend?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t wanna be your boyfriend Gallagher; you never asked, just assumed cause I let you stick your tongue down my throat we were going steady. And here I thought chivalry wasn’t dead.”

Ian reached over sneakily intertwining their fingers under the covers as if that might hide the intimacy.

“Mickey would you be my boyfriend?”

Damn him. Damn that prick all to hell for the things he did to Mickey’s heart.

“Yea okay.” He mumbled shyly.

They kissed softly quickly finding themselves underneath the covers. It felt like Ian was leaving his touch on Mickey’s soul. He wondered how he could push anyone away. How anyone could look at him and not wanted to be closer, not want to mold themselves to every piece of him. Mickey could feel himself molding into any crevice of Ian’s life that he could. It was a terrifying thought, to be a piece in the infrastructure of someone’s life, but he wanted to try. With Ian. He just wanted to try.

“My sister wants to meet the reason I didn’t come to family dinner last weekend. And the reason for me canceling this weekend.”

Mickey scoffed leaning on his elbows to accept Ian’s dick at a better angle. “I’m hardly the type you take home to Mommy.”

“’Snot my mother.” He grunted driving his hips forward. “Just family. I’ve met yours. Bring Yev, it’ll be fun.”

“Can we not talk about family when you’re dick is in my ass please?”

“Yea okay.” He grunted.

Ian started giving it to Mickey in hard, quick punches. His hips snapped in rapid succession until Mickey couldn’t breathe. He cried out into the pillow trying desperately to censor himself. Ian wasn’t having that though. His fingers dug into Mickey’s scalp, grabbing the hair roughly.

“Don’t. I—I wanna hear you. Let me hear you.” He begged, fingers reaching to tweak at Mickey’s nipples.

And he does. He lets Ian hear all the sounds his body has been programmed to be ashamed off. There’s begging and gasping and shrill moans when he hits a particularly good spot. It’s so fucking good, a raging inferno that burns deep in his the pit of his belly. No one ever made him feel like Gallagher did. He realized in-between Gallagher finishing first and him be okay with not cumming first that he’s falling in  something with him. That something about Ian is different and good and amazing. He wants that feeling that he feels right in that moment all the time. He just doesn’t have a word for it yet.

“What makes me different?” He asked when they’d stopped again.

They lay intertwined beneath the most pristine sheets Mickey’d ever slept on, so pristine he almost felt bad for cumming on them, and they were cuddling. It was full-fledged ankles and legs twirling together, Gallagher’s gigantic ass head on his chest like he was a teddy bear instead of a grizzly, breathing each other’s exhales, cuddling. It was nice. In fact he liked it way too much.

“Huh?”

“You said relationships are messy. What about me made you change your mind?”

Mickey shrugged. “I don’t really think I did. Just not willing to be without you is all.”

He grinned in response. “You like me.”

“Fuck off.”

Ian’s arms seemed to tighten around Mickey’s waist and all he could think about was how much he wanted him to grip him harder.

“Never.” He murmured snuggling deeper like an oversized, puppy. “You can stay here as long as you want okay?

“Can’t. Work. Yevgeny? We’ve got lives to get back to Gallagher.”

“I know.” He mumbled stubbornly. “I’m just saying don’t be so afraid to come here. You and Yevgeny are always welcome. Mi casa es su casa.”

“Why?”

It still didn’t make sense that anyone could have something so beautiful and want Mickey to be a part of it. Gallagher had a great life, and he couldn’t for the life of him understand why he would want to bring his dark twisted shit into it.

“Cause I miss you when you’re gone. I don’t like waiting till the weekend. I wanna see you every day. Yevy too.”

Ian was much better at words than him. He seemed able to sum everything Mickey was feeling but was too stupid to say.

So he simply said, “Okay.” And held Ian a little tighter.

“And you’ll come? To meet my family?”

He could’ve said no. But he knew he’d end up going anyway. Ian had a way of getting Mikey to do things he didn’t want to do and then end up liking them. It was annoying as all fuck.

“I can bring Yev?” He checked.

Ian grinned. “I’d be mad if you didn’t.”

“Yea, yea okay, wipe the fucking smile off your face, tough guy.”

“I am tough Mickey. Tougher than your ass.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow doubtfully. “Nothing’s tougher than my ass. I just took on the fucking King Kong of dicks, twice. But by all means show me what you got, Rambo.”

Soon they were tumbling through the sheets each of them trying to pit each other and Mickey hadn’t had that much fun in years. Gallagher’s gigantic ass was difficult to get on top of, his reason was that Ian was so used to having people underneath him, but Mickey managed. Regardless one of them would pin the other and begin a roar of victory only to have the other take advantage of their weakened state. When they were hungry Ian would return with dry cereal or sandwiches despite trying to cook Mickey a four course meal again. “You already got me in the sac Gallagher you don’t need to try so hard,” had made him smile though because it made him feel like he really had him.

They don’t only fuck, a fact Mickey was genuinely surprised by. Ian practically had an amusement park in his place anyway. They played pool in nothing but boxers which helped a lot when Ian decided to use Mickey’s bent over position to his advantage and rim the ever loving fucking out of him before pounding him into the fuzzy, burn inducing material of the pool table. Mickey kicked Ian’s ass in bowling. As far as he was concerned it served the jackass right for having a literal bowling alley in his apartment. Ian was just happy to stare at Mickey’s ass when he was up so it was a win-win situation.

He called Yev before bed like he promised and Mickey realized how badly he could miss the little fucker talking his ear off. He and Sara had moved on to a Friday the 13th marathon. Most parents might find that troubling seeing as he was six but Mickey had learned to just be happy that his kid didn’t piss his pants and wasn’t off his fucking rocker. He even put him on speaker phone so he could talk to Ian, his new best friend in the whole fucking world apparently. Mickey made a point to roll his eyes every time Yev would pay him a compliment and Gallagher would grin like the luckiest fucker in the world. It was really kinda fucking sweet though. Only kinda.

“Oh my gosh you have a swimming pool in your house?! Can I see sometime!?”

Ian chuckled. “Sure. Maybe next weekend okay? We’ll get ice-cream too.”

Yev shouted and hollered continuing to talk about how Ian was the coolest guy ever until Mickey reminded him that his father was the still very much in the room. Shit heads.

That weekend was everything. He got to sleep next to Ian. He learned that Ian’s side of the bed was the opposite of his and that their bodies subconsciously found each other through the night. He learned that morning kisses before teeth brushing were not the worst thing in the world. He also learned the little things like how golden and beautiful his hair looked when the sun hit it just right in the morning, and that when he stretched, he got little dimples in his shoulders. He always got up super early to go to the bathroom, but he always came back to hold Mickey in bed for a while. He cooked really well and there was a story behind where he’d learned that he wasn’t ready to share yet. He learned that being with Ian was fun, and that he didn’t really want to not be around him.

He left Ian’s Sunday afternoon with a noticeable limp and a smile that he couldn’t wipe off his face. Ian had kept him at the door for ten minutes turning his lips a deep crimson color and leaving more non-hideable hickeys along his throat until Mickey was stumbling away with what he swore was not a giggle. It wasn’t until he’d finally made it home and was on the elevator back to his shitty apartment with his son waiting for him that he realized he’d been smiling since he left Ian’s. And even when he tried he couldn’t stop. Mickey was smiling. He was happy. And it wasn’t even because of sex. It was just him; it was Ian.

“Did you have fun on your sleepover daddy?” Yev asked latching his arms around his father.

Mickey only smiled wider. “Sure, did. Missed you though.”

“Me too.”

“Maybe you can come with next time, two days is too long without you.”

“IS THAT A HICKEY?!” Sara quickly interrupted.

“WHAT’S A HICKEY?!”

Oh was it great to be home

*                                                                               **

Yev goes to Ian’s for the first time three weeks later and Mickey’s fully convinced he’d move in if he could. He had never seen Yevgeny’s eyes get so big. He was like a kid in a candy store. Literally because that fucker bought him candy. And Ian was no better. They ran around the house playing anything that Yev’s heart desired, whether that was swimming until they were pruned and starving to death or trying to teach Yev how to bowl. He even let Yev watch the SpongeBob movie in his home theater, something Mickey hadn’t known existed which left him wondering how much shit Gallagher actually had. He’d smiled sheepishly as if he was embarrassed of it all and insisted that he hadn’t picked the place, Lip did. It was just out of convenience because it was close to the company which only made Mickey wonder what the fuck kind of place Ian would buy on his own accord.

It’s that first night when Yevgeny is absolutely dead to the world and sleeping on the bed in Ian’s guest bedroom that Ian begins to pry and chip away even more. Mickey had been slowly letting his guard down for about a month, but Ian always liked to push. A fact that he was both thankful and thoroughly irritated by.

“Stay.” He whispered into his neck hands easing over Mickey’s hips.

Mickey sighed. “I can’t man I got work tomorrow, Yev’s got school.”

“Borrow something. My youngest brother has left shit here since I got the place I’m sure Yev can fit it. He’s sleeping Mick; you don’t wanna drive all the way home. Just stay.”

It was one thing for him to stay and another entirely for Yev to be there to. For some reason Yevgeny getting mixed up with Ian made him far more nervous than their actual relationship. He was terrified of him getting attached, terrified that he might learn to love Ian and be absolutely devastated if . . . Mickey didn’t like to think about if. The deeper he got the harder he tried not to think about it, but that didn’t stop him from being a nervous wreck.

“We can’t.” He mumbled palms encompassing Ian’s cheek.

Ian huffed stubbornly. “Why not?”

“I’m just not ready yet.” He admitted. “I need to take Yevgeny home. I’m sorry, alright?”

Ian’s heart might’ve stung a little bit at that. Home. He was sure that he wanted Mickey and Yev to feel comfortable with him, he was sure that he wanted them to find a home with him. But he was terrified of pushing Mickey too far, and he was positive that Mickey was the most fragile person he’d ever been with despite that hard exterior, so he let him leave.

He helped Mickey carry Yev down to the car and put his backpack in the back seat before pulling Mickey close. They hadn’t had sex since that weekend, and they were both aching for it which had been his prime motivation for getting Mickey to stay, but he settled for a really intense kiss goodnight.

“When are you gonna come over again? I want you.” He whispered.

Mickey groaned. “We’ll figure it out alright? I might want you too.”

“Might?”  He chuckled teeth grazing Mickey’s earlobe.

“Fuck. Alright, alright I’ll call you tomorrow okay?”

“Okay. Night Mick.”

Mickey went frustratingly home with a half chub. The last thing he wanted was Yev to get in the habit of being at Ian’s. He knew the apartment was like wonderland to his kid and he didn’t want him begging to be there every day and imposing on Ian’s life even if Ian seemed to want just that. He kept trying to pull back and Ian kept trying to go forward. It made things choppier than he would’ve liked.

When Gallagher asked him to go to lunch he didn’t hesitate once. He missed Ian when he wasn’t around. He’d sit at work trying to do paperwork and finding himself suddenly daydreaming of a too big grin on a pale stupid face. Those bright green eyes with specks of blue and hazel. God he was so annoying. He was turning Mickey into some love sick puppy that like thought about his boyfriend’s eyes and shit. But he went. Cause it was Gallagher and they both knew he would.  

He met Ian at the building where he’d worked on that project all those weeks ago, when they’d just started to get to know each other. Ian was in his office dressed in a button up and tie as usual. Mickey had trouble breathing when he looked at him as usual.

“Almost ready, just gotta send an email and we can go.”

Mickey snickered. “Take your time, big executive business owner. The little people can wait.”

Ian promptly flipped him of continuing to type at his computer when Lip took it upon himself to barge in. It was the whole masturbating alone in your room thing all over again.

“Hey you got the Rossenburg file?”

“Nah it’s on your flash drive remember?” Ian answered closing his laptop.

“Oh yea that’s right, thanks.”

He looked up then from whatever paper he was looking at and took in Mickey. Lip was dressed the complete opposite of Ian opting for ripped jeans and a t-shirt with a whole lot of fucks on it instead of a dress shirt. Regardless he seemed to look down on Mickey, as if he was a lesser. Mickey being Mickey automatically cut him a glare cracking his knuckles instinctively.

“I’m sorry, didn’t realize I was interrupting something. Your office is usually empty. You an employee?” Lip asked.

Ian rushed to intervene quickly stepping between his brother and his boyfriend.

“Mickey this is Lip my brother. Lip uh Mickey.”

Lip leaned his hand out for a shake only for Mickey to peer at it unimpressively.

“Alrighty then we’re late for lunch. Be back by one.” Ian smiled nervously pushing Mickey towards the door.

They rode down the elevator in silence, Ian looking at everything but Mickey and Mickey doing just the opposite. Mickey’d left early at the insistence that Ian drive them to their lunch spot and he had sneaking suspicion he was regretting the decision.

"So you didn't tell your brother about me huh? You ashamed of the Southside trash single dad tarnishing your reputation or what?"

Ian flinched at the harsh words, fingers tightening on the wheel.

"N--No of course not. Lip's complicated, I told you that." He mumbled. 

"I do know that. I know a lot that doesn't seem to be translating to the other side. You even planning on actually introducing me to the family or am i just the dirty little secret only good enough for the apartment and the bedroom and that's it?"

Mickey was surprised by how mad he actually was. But it was frustrating. Ian had quickly become his life, taking up every thought in his head that wasn't about surviving and Yev. He'd let him in, had given him Yev when the very thought had been absolutely terrifying. And here he was with nothing left to give, with nothing else to hide and Ian wasn't doing the same at all. All of a sudden they came to a crashing halt in the middle of the street and Ian was looking at him with grave, serious eyes. For the first time he looked much older than he was, thirty years instantly appearing out of nowhere.

"You're not my secret. I wouldn't ever do that you. I've been a secret, I've been promised the world and given absolutely nothing and it fucking sucks. I care about you and I swear to god that's not what's going on. I never want you to feel like that alright?"

He looked up at him, surprised by the sudden outburst. It was clear that he'd struck a nerve they hadn't talked about yet. So he gave a simple nod allowing the car to fall into a stifling silence the rest of the ride. 

Meanwhile Ian was beating himself up. Mickey calling himself a secret hit home to that shitty Southside part of himself he'd worked so hard to bury. It was like a huge weight was pressing down on his chest. And he hated it. He loved Mickey for that taste of him, that piece of Southside that he'd always loved without all of that pain of his past. He hated that he was hurting Mickey. He hated that he was still scared of disappointing his big brother, of him seeing him as a lesser rather than the equal he'd struggled to be come. 

They went to lunch grabbing a table and staring at their menus silent. Mickey was battling both anger and guilt and Ian was trying to come up with a way to get Mickey to forgive him. He settled for reaching out to hold his hand. Mickey looked up at him with a confused expression,  raising an eyebrow. 

"Don't be mad, alright? The only reason Lip doesn't know is because I don't have a good history when it comes to guys. He worries. My sister does too. That's why she wants to meet you so bad. And if I was ashamed of you I wouldn't have invited you at all ya know? You're . . . important Mickey. You gotta believe that."

Mickey nodded eyes on their fingers touching. 

"So why rush me out the door just now?"

He sighed. "I want him to meet you at dinner. Properly, where he'll be forced to behave." 

It was Mickey's turn to sigh. 

"Alright you just . . . you gotta put me in your life a little bit. Cause you're in mine. You're like fifty percent of it."

"I'm trying. I mean i tried to get you to stay at the apartment but you're not ready. What do you want? Just tell me and I'll do it."

He was desperate to make it work with Mickey. He liked him so much. He couldn't imagine going a day without him. 

"I don't know man. This isn't exactly my area of expertise."

"What if . . . Thanksgiving is coming up right? You can spend it with us. You and Yev. If you don't have anything else to do, I mean. And uh.. I always help take the nieces and nephews trick or treating. All the rich people give out good shit. Come with me. That's a start right?"

"I--I guess. Yea." 

Ian nodded. "And this weekend you should come over. I miss more than seeing your face. I wanna see other things as well."

A shaky chuckle came out of Mickey's throat. This kid was ridiculous.

"We'll see. Can we eat now, jackass?"

"Sure." 

*                                                   *                                                      *

Later that night Ian showed up at Mickey's apartment with popcorn and Wreck it Ralph and Yev completely lost his shit as he always did with Ian. It was Mickey on his couch leaning on his boyfriend's shoulder with his son in his lap. It was the weirdest most amazing thing he'd ever imagined. If only daddy could see him now. 

"Daddy, can I show Ian what we painted today in class?!" 

Mickey smiled. "Sure go ahead.”

Yev ran, scrounging for his backpack before climbing up enthusiastically into Ian's lap like it was nothing. Mickey bit into his lip to hide the shock from showing on his face. It was the first time Yev had ever been that close to someone that wasn't Mickey before. For such an outgoing, happy kid he didn't trust people much. He knew his dad, he knew Sara and his school and there wasn't much room for strangers. The first day of kindergarten had been literal kicking and screaming when Yev realized he didn't get to stay with Mickey, that he had to be around new people all day long. He didn’t have problems being nice or friendly to people but he was still a Milkovich at heart, and physical contact wasn’t exactly the go to move.

Now there he was, sitting on Ian’s lap showing him a painting he’d done in school that day and there was no fear, no sign of distress on Yev’s face at all, leaning Mickey to watch on in a mixture of confusion and wonderment.

“Wow that’s a great dinosaur. Do you know what kind it is?” Ian asked enthusiastically.

Yev beamed proudly. “It’s a Tyrannosaurus Rex one of the largest carnivores of all time! I learned about it in my new book from the library”

Mickey couldn’t help but be baffled that words like stubborn escaped him yet Tyrannosaurus was just easy as pie.

“Good job Yevy that’s awesome. There’s a museum I used to go to as a kid with my little brother Liam. It’s free, maybe we’ll go sometime if your dad’s okay with it.”

Yev turned his bright eyes on to Mickey and that adorable tiny grin and he was putty in his hands… as usual.

“We’ll talk about it later. Go brush your teeth or whatever it is kids do before bed.”

Yev reached to hug Ian before hugging Mickey and running off to go change and get ready for bed. Ian was plotting on fooling around a little bit but Mickey was staring at him weird like he’d done something. And truly he hadn’t. Yev was one of the sweetest kids he’d ever met and in the midst of falling for Mickey he’d managed to fall for him too. (In a totally non-pedophilely way of course) He didn’t give huge smiles and ask him questions about school to impress Mickey, he did it cause he wanted to know. He did it cause he liked to see Yev smile. He wasn’t even aware of what his actions were doing.

“He likes you.” Mickey sighed.

Ian raised an eyebrow. “You make it sound like that’s a bad thing. I like him too.”

“No you don’t understand. He sat on your lap. He hugged you before he went to bed. It took him two years to hug Sara. He’s never sat in anyone else’s lap but mine. He really likes you.”  

Ian could see Mickey’s brain cranking away as he stared at him, he could see him already start to pull away just at the mere thought of their relationship advancing.

“Which is why we should go to the museum sometime soon yea?” He offered sliding closer to his boyfriend. “Maybe after dinner he’ll like my nieces and nephews enough for them to come too.”

Mickey looked up at him with scared eyes and Ian understood. He knew Mickey was scared of falling too deep just for Ian to jump ship. But he also knew that he was in it with Mickey, that he wasn’t fucking around with some single dad just to get his rocks off. He felt something in the pit of his stomach when he thought about Mickey. And Ian thought that was love. He’d never been in love before, but sitting there watching Mickey look scared and just wanting to protect him from the world made him think that made he’d managed to do it anyway.

“It’s alright,” He murmured soothingly, running his fingers along Mickey’s jaw. “I won’t hurt you. Either of you.”  

“I don’t think it’ll be intentional Gallagher.” He mumbled.

Ian just shook his head pressing their lips together to silence him.

“Stop talking about the future and just be content with the present. Please?”

“I gotta put the kid to sleep.” Mickey murmured detangling himself from Ian’s grip.

Ian sighed and let him leave, opting instead to head into his room and distract himself by snooping.

Mickey played with Yev for a few minutes lifting his tiny boy high up in the air before “dropping” him to the bed. The laughs that poured out of him were worth every second of it too. They calmed him, just barely but it was enough. He tucked Yev into bed kissing at the soft skin of his cheeks and curling up against his son where he didn’t have to deal with anything else. He couldn’t stop the questions nagging at the back of his brain. He couldn’t help but be both comforted and absolutely terrified of Yev and Ian having a genuine, actual relationship. It was scary and exhilarating all the same time and he didn’t really know how to handle that.

“Yevgeny?”

“Yea dad?” He whispered softly into the dark.

“Do you . . . Is uh—Ian. Do you like having Ian around?”

“Uh huh. He’s really cool and funny.”

Mickey nodded not at all reassured. “Yea but don’t you ever miss how things were before? When it was just you and me against the world?”

Yev gave him that little squint of confusion that pulled his eyebrows into a tiny wrinkled line. Then he shook his head decidedly.

“I like it when you have a boyfriend. You don’t get so stressed all the time. He always makes you laugh and stuff. Plus Sara says you deserve to be happy and that me and Ian make you like the happiest person on the whole planet. So I think things should just stay like this for always.”

Mickey just stared at him for a while. Because kids weren’t supposed to have wisdom like that right? He remembered being a kid and not giving a fuck about anything because that ability had been beaten out of him by the time he was Yev’s age. He was taught to be tough and not care about anyone. And it was times like that, when he’d ask Yev a question and he’d given him such an honest and pure answer that he knew his child-self would’ve never been capable of that he thought maybe he had done alright with Yev. Because he never forced anything on him. He let him think for himself and create himself in a way he’d never been allowed to.

He looked at his son, all pale skin and black hair and blue eyes, so fully his in every way. He had Svetlana’s nose and that was about it. But that core of him that was purely good was all Yev and he’d never take credit for that part of him.

“We’re not talking about me, bud. I wanna know about you. Do you miss having me all to yourself?”

Yev shook his head again. “I like to share you. I like when you’re happy daddy.”

Mickey wasn’t sure what he was trying to get him to say. As if it would make be him feel any better to have Yev hate Ian. But he had to know. He had to be sure that nothing he did would ever hurt Yevgeny. He wouldn’t be his dad. He had to give a shit because he refused to look him in the eye and see that familiar look of utter rage in his eyes. He refused to be a hurdle in his life.

“If he was . . . around more, would that be okay?”

“What like move in with us?”

Mickey’s eyes widened. “No. No not that. But uh maybe he could have dinner here with us so I don’t have to leave on Friday nights ya know? And he might . . . spend the night sometimes. Cause I don’t think I’m ready for us to stay at his place. Is that alright?”

Yev smiled a wide grin that Mickey loved with his entire soul.

“As long as he makes the mac n’ cheese. His is better than yours daddy, no offense.”

Mickey just laughed incredulously. He had no idea what he’d done to deserve Yev, especially being the little shit he was growing up. But he’d never take it for granted.

“Yea okay big guy get some sleep alright? You got school in the mornin’.”

“Mkay.”

He left the room after kissing his son and headed for the living room where Ian was not .Instead he was in Mickey’s room digging around like the nosy little fucker he was.

“The fuck you think you’re doing Gallagher?” He asked causing Ian to jump guiltily.

“I was trying to find your sex toys,” He sighed unabashedly. “but it’s like the room of a eighty year old man in here.”

“Oh sure snoop through my shit and then insult me that’s great.” He snorted heading straight for his closet. “I’ve got a six year old. Nothing that’s going up my ass is under five feet above the ground.”

Ian headed straight to Mickey excitedly snatching the box out of his hands and towing it over to the bed. There were a couple vibrating butt plugs in various states of hugeness that told Ian Mickey liked it big. There was a few dildos, some lube, the usual.

“What’s this, a rosary for giants?” He smirked pulling a string of balls out of the box.

“Nah man, they’re ben-wa beads. You put ‘em in my ass and you pull ‘em out real slow.”

“Huh… little kinky are we?”

Mickey rolled his eyes taking the box back to the privacy of his closet. When he turned back around Ian was sitting there with his legs cross on his shitty queen sized bed. And he knew that he didn’t want him to go anywhere. He knew he’d be just fine if he stayed right there with Ian. He just hoped Ian would do the same for a while.

Ian watched Mickey move slowly toward him. He tugged his jeans down his hips letting them thud softly against the ground before climbing into bed with Ian. They laid down together Mickey pulling at his jeans until they were both in similar states of undress. Under the safety of the covers he curled in on Ian. He let him wrap his arms around his back and pull his body tight against his chest. He felt warm. Safe. Loved.

“Stay.”

*                                                                                           **

So Ian starts staying. He makes the mac n’ cheese and Yev’s a happy camper because of it. And Mickey walks him to the door every morning so he can go home and change for work and the kiss is always amazing. It’s tongue and teeth and morning breath and he loves it way too fucking much. They don’t fuck because Mickey’s so positive Yev’s gonna wake up and think Ian’s killing him or something, but they manage to get creative anyway. Mickey sucks Ian off daily and every time it’s like he’s trying to suck his brains out through his dick. He lets him use the ben-wa beads but only with the door locked and his face shoved firmly into a pillow. It’s the best week of his life he thinks.

“Don’t forget family dinner tomorrow.” He murmured against Mickey’s lips.

“Yea, yea don’t worry I’ll put on my nicest t-shirt.”

They kiss again licking inside each other’s mouths like they didn’t just spend all night together. When Ian pulls away again, Mickey pouts like a grumpy kitten and he’s pretty sure it’s the cutest fucking thing ever.

“I’ll be back after work. I just gotta stop at my apartment and get more underwear.”

“You can wear mine.” He tried to argue, but it definitely came out as a whine, pulling their lips back together.

Ian chuckled. “You’re so cute. I’ll see you after work. Promise.”

“Yea okay. Call me cute again and I’ll kick your fucking ass Gallagher.”

“Oh yea I’m sure you’d just kiss me to death huh Mick?” He grinned capturing their lips together once again.

Mickey was all smiles getting ready for work and he might’ve whistled as he dropped Yev off at school. He walked into work with a slightly more enthusiastic grumble and Sara just smiled at him. It was like a new routine was starting. It was almost normal. To be happy. And it was a really weird, really amazing feeling.

His Friday night centered around movies with Yev until he fell asleep and then more of that kissing stuff with Ian on the couch. It was some pretty good shit.

Then Mickey kind of lost his shit a little bit. No one had ever introduced him to the family before. He was a Milkovich and Milkovichs were good for three things. Drugs. A quick hurt. And pain. He had fuck u-up on his knuckles for Christ sake. There was no way Ian’s family would like him, Southside or not. And he definitely wasn’t looking forward to the whole “where’d you get a kid from if you like it where the sun don’t shine” conversation. He liked Ian, hell maybe even more than that, but he knew he was a family guy and their approval was important to him. Which only made it all the more terrifying.

“You look good. Relax.” Ian murmured in his ear.

Mickey just shrugged looking down. “’M fine.”

“Uh huh sure. You ready Yevy?”

Yev nodded hesitantly resting his head against his father’s thigh. Ian grinned having two scared Milkovichs on his hands. So they all walked up to a big house right on the cusp on the Northside turning South hand in hand. A woman with with brown hair and big wide eyes opened the door smiling and throwing herself at Ian.

“Finally! I was beginning to think we were gonna have to hunt you down.” She giggled turning to take in his guests. “Now I see why. Nice.”

Mickey’s cheeks automatically burned at the terribly whispered compliment. Ian just smiled proudly at the two beside him. They were cute and sweet and perfect to him. Somewhere in the midst of spending all his time with them they had become like another part of his family. He introduced them, not caring if Fiona could tell just how deep  he was in, and he knew that she could. They made him so happy that he needed to share that with someone else. He needed someone to look at those two and explain that he wasn’t crazy, that they were special and important.

“Come in, come in. Everyone’s waiting.”

They stepped inside only for Ian to be immediately tackled by three toddlers near Yev’s height. They jumped on him cheering in chipmunk like voices about how much they’d missed Uncle Ian. There were two girls and one boy, both girls with big brown doe eyes to match the oldest Fiona. The boy still had that brown hair thing going for him though so you could tell they were all hers. Lip was there too, staring at Mickey as the realization struck of who he was with some Asian chick strapped to his arm. There was a redheaded girl, Debbie, and some light-brown haired with a stupid fucking do-rag that had to be Carl. Oh and the black one Liam. Plus some dude with a beard that stood next to Fiona which he assumed was the husband. It was a lot to take in for both of them so they stuck to each other’s sides where things were safe.

“You guys, this is Mickey, my boyfriend.” Ian introduced, eyes wild and bright and solely on Mickey as he spoke. “And this is his son, Yev.”

“Hi Mickey and Yev!” They all cheered.

The little boy gave a groan. “Finally another boy to even out all the girlyness. Wanna play dinosaurs?”

Yev’s eyes widened a little bit and he looked at Mickey, still holding tightly onto his hand, as if to ask for approval or in that case encouragement.

“It’s okay, go ahead.”

And then he actually left completely abandoning his father. The little bastard. Ian noticed that Mickey was still standing at the entryway to the living room like he was contemplating bolting at any moment. He reached out for his hand intertwining their fingers and smiled reassuringly at him.

“Let’s go get a beer.”

Mickey nodded letting Ian pull him away from the scary Gallaghers. Then he was pushing him against the counter and gripping his hips. And then they were kissing and there wasn’t room for a care in the world. He reached up fingertips running through Ian’s scalp as their tongues tangled. It was amazing to kiss him, much better than Mickey would ever be able to admit. There was nothing more grounding than his too big hands on his body running down his sides to his waist and pulling him close. He could get lost in that touch, in that kiss.

“Hey you two there are children present.” Fiona chided interrupting absolutely fucking everything.

Mickey whined softly against Ian’s lips before pulling away. Ian gave him a grin pulling out the two beers they’d come for as if he hadn’t been edging each of them towards a half chub. Prick.

Dinner was loud. That’s the best way he knew to describe it. Everyone talked all at once arms flying all over the place to grab whatever food they wanted. Yev and Mickey tried not to be awkward, but it was hard more so for Mickey than anything else. Ian watched them the entire time. Sure it was supposed to be about the Gallaghers accepting them, but he wanted Mickey and Yev to accept his family too. He wanted Mickey and Yev to maybe be a part of it. Then Lip happened.

“So Mickey . . . what is that you do exactly?”

Mickey looked up from his plate for the first time to everyone staring at him obnoxiously. He swore his throat tightened.

“I uh do like secretary work. Filing and stuff. Hours are good and it pays decent.” He shrugged.

Ian gave Lip a warning look knowing that Mickey was already on the defensive. He didn’t need to defend himself to Ian’s asshole of a brother.

“Hmm I thought maybe it was construction.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

“The band-aids.” He nodded towards Mickey’s hand. “You get a lot of injuries in secretary work?”

Mickey froze up at that not realizing that anyone had been plying such close attention. Ian had insisted he didn’t care about the tattoos, that they were a part of him and that he liked all of those parts, but his boyfriend was insistent on trying to make a good impression. Now that Lip had called him out though it felt like all eyes were on him and all of a sudden the heat was sweltering because seriously when did it get that fucking hot in there, and he just wanted to take Yevgeny and run and never come back. But then Ian’s fingers were wrapping around his wrist and he felt the tangible hold that he had on him. It was a soothing calm that just settled over him. In that moment when it was fight or flight, Ian was the only thing that kept him from flying.

“Let’s stop treating my fucking boyfriend like he’s a criminal huh? Can we do that? Can we please do that?” Ian snapped.

“Hey it’s okay Ian.” Fiona murmured softly.

“It’s not okay; Lip’s a prick which is fine for us, but maybe Mickey doesn’t want to put up with that. Maybe Mick didn’t come over here to get the third degree. Maybe he’s over here trying to impress you guys when he shouldn’t fucking have to and maybe this crazy family should try and impress someone else for a change.”

“It’s alright Ian.” Mickey murmured. “I’m fine.”

Ian turned to look at Mickey’s eyes which immediately made him soften. He nodded turning to give his brother what could only be known as “the chin”.

“So let’s talk about literally anything that doesn’t make you look like dick.”

Mickey was barely able to hide his smirk or the chuckle that passed through his lips. Ian had a little bit of a fire in him, that Southside spunk coming through when he was around his family. It only made Mickey like him even more; it only made him realize how deep he’d fallen. There Ian was defending him to his family and telling them that he deserved a chance, and it made him feel really fucking weird and fluttery inside. The rest of the meal he found himself leaning more on Ian. He answered when he was spoken to, he allowed himself to relax and just fucking be because Ian wanted him to. And it went surprisingly well.

Liam and Yev got along really well, and they played with Fiona’s son which they now knew was named Ethan. Fiona’s husband was Jimmy or Steve apparently but Ian just laughed and didn’t explain it, and Mickey didn’t ask. They were all loud and happy to be together and Ian fit into all perfectly. And even if Mickey didn’t fit in perfectly Ian never left him hanging. They stood together the entire time holding hands behind their backs while Ian talked to his family. Once Mickey relaxed he still didn’t become Chatty Kathy like Gallagher, he much preferred to just fade into the background and listen to others.

Ian left dinner happy. His boyfriend didn’t hate his family, though he couldn’t see him and Lip getting a beer anytime soon, and his family was just as accepting of him and Yev. He hugged all his siblings goodbye as Mickey took a sleeping Yev to the car. Fiona stopped him right outside the door her eyes straying to his boyfriend over by the car.

“You look happy.” She commented.

Ian smiled. “I am. I really am Fi.”

“And you met him in a grocery store?” She asked her nose twitching a little bit.

“Don’t go all Lip on me please I’m begging you. There’s nothing wrong with him.”

“It’s not him I’m worried about Ian you know that.”

Ian looked down messing around with his ankles to avoid Fiona’s stare.

“I’m fine. Nothing’s happened in over a year.”

“I understand sweetface and I’m so happy for you, you know that right? But there’s a child involved, and I get the feeling that Mickey’s missing a big piece of the puzzle right now don’t you?”

He looked over where Mickey was buckling Yev in, in Ian’s car and it made him smile sadly. They were doing things together, being a couple and meeting families and doing couply things like driving in the same car together. The thought of that ending was absolutely terrifying.

“We just got serious. I don’t wanna lose him.”

“I know you don’t but you have to tell him Ian. He’d rather hear it from you then find out through some second hand source. He’ll understand.”

He looked up at his sister who’d taken care of him his whole life and knew she would never purposely tell him wrong. But a part of him just wanted her to do the hard part for him, like he was still a child so he didn’t have to deal with it. Mickey deserved to know; he knew that. He also knew he’d yet to meet one person who could handle him as he was, who could learn everything about him and still come back for more. He liked to pretend, especially with Mickey and the thought of that no longer being an option was terrifying.

“Bye Fi.” He mumbled hugging her tightly.

“Don’t be a stranger. We miss you.” She sighed squeezing him. “It was nice to meet you Mickey!”

He nodded at her still looking a little uncomfortable in his surroundings, but at least he’d thanked her for dinner.

The ride back to Mickey’s was quiet with nothing but the soft sound of Yev’s breathing from the back seat. Mickey didn’t know if Ian was upset with the way things had gone or if he was just enjoying the ride back. He couldn’t imagine it being the latter seeing as the man seemed to talk at a constant rate. He felt bad for fucking it up, for making him argue with his brother and not being friendlier with his family. Yev had relaxed a little while into it and Mickey had tried his best, but apparently it wasn’t enough. Which didn’t really surprise him. Not being enough was practically a Milkovich tradition.

They got back to Mickey’s apartment and he was surprised that Ian even followed him upstairs as he tucked his son into his bed for a much needed nap. They’d walked into the Gallagher house as a unit, like they were starting to solidify into one, but now he couldn’t have felt more distanced from Ian. There was a wall up and he could see it, but he couldn’t tell what it was there for.

Sliding the door closed quietly he walked back to the living room where Ian was sitting on his couch in his own little world, like Mickey wasn’t even there. Something like anger flashed through him at the sight. Maybe it was disappointment, although he wasn’t sure who it was at. Himself for letting Ian down? Ian for just sitting there and not saying a single fucking thing? He wasn’t very good with impassiveness, so whatever was going on he needed it to advance then. Now.

“You don’t have to stay. We’re good here.”

Ian looked up for the first time since they’d left the Gallagher’s and it was as if he’d been sleeping the whole time.

“Huh?”

Mickey raised an eyebrow. “I don’t what I did . . . but whatever it is you don’t have to stay for my benefit.”

Ian squinted as his brain struggled to catch up with what Mickey was saying. It wasn’t till Mickey crossed his arms defensively that Ian even realized he was upset, and it didn’t take very long for him to piece together an idea of why.

“Oh, hey look it’s not you. I was just thinking about something my sister said. Come here.” He sighed.

Mickey made his way hesitantly toward the couch where Ian yanked him onto his lap.

“I’m not mad at you I swear. Having you meet them made me so unbelievably happy you don’t even know.” He whispered against Mickey’s lips.

“Then what the fuck is the problem?”

“I just really don’t wanna talk about it right now. Can I take rain check?”

Mickey looked at Ian hesitantly, trying to figure out whether or not he should let it go. Ian skirted his fingers up Mickey’s thighs wrapping his arms around his waist. He pulled them closer eyes straying to his boyfriend’s lips.

“Please?”

Mickey sighed. “Whatever, kiss me already.”

Their lips slotted together taking away all the tension in the men’s shoulders. Ian quickly slid his fingers up to Mickey’s jawline kissing him roughly. Soon the only thing filling his mind was Mickey and the beautiful taste of his tongue. His fingers became greedy tugging the dress shirt he’d worn to dinner out of his pants and over his head. Panting breaths passed between them as they kissed, grabbing desperately at one another on Mickey’s raggedy couch.

“Mmm Mick I could kiss you all night.” Ian sighed fingers tightening in his hair. “I kind of have other things I wanna do though.”

“I told you not when Yevy’s here.” He mumbled pushing himself closer.

“He’s asleep. We’ll be real quiet.”                                  

Ian’s lips were edging down Mickey’s neck softly and it was affecting the man’s heart beat terribly.

Mickey groaned. “We can’t. I can’t.”

That didn’t seem to deter the redhead at all who continued to lick his way down his boyfriend’s throat. Mickey surely wasn’t lying if his volume levels in Ian’s apartment were anything to go by, but it’d been weeks and Ian Gallagher was a needy bastard who wanted to please the shit out of Mickey Milkovich.

“I’ll cover your mouth if you cover mine.”

“Fuck, come on.”

Mickey hadn’t snuck off to have sex in forever. Of course his record for sexual activity had been seriously lacking in the past few years, but something about needing to be quiet was oddly familiar. He still got to strip Ian completely and stare at every piece of his body. That body that he’d been terrified he would start to forget. The cool pale skin was heavenly under his fingertips as he traced the dips and grooves of his chest. It was important to him that Ian was there, underneath him. It meant that he wanted this, Mickey. Covering each other’s mouths so that they didn’t wake Yev. Pulling the bed away from the wall just in case. It meant Ian thought he was worth it. Ian was staying.

And so he let him in a little deeper that night. He let him look into his eyes and see all the fears and the inadequacies that resided in Mickey’s head. And Ian didn’t run away. He kissed him; he let his fingers slide so achingly slow along his skin that Mickey moaned into his hand.  It was different than all those times in Ian’s apartment. He wasn’t just fucking him. He was . . . it was . . . he loved him through it. Everything touch and thrust and kiss, it felt like love. And that feeling in his gut that he hadn’t had a word for, for so long now felt so obvious. It was love.

*                                                                              *                                                                            *

“Daddy look I want this one!” Yev squealed.

His son was jumping up and down with a batman costume and Mickey couldn’t even roll his eyes. Jesus he was soft. They’d gotten through the horrible crying fest of not being able to find a spongebob costume and after he’d consoled him for ten minutes he’d promised Yev could get anything else that he wanted. His school was having some kind of party and he needed to get the costume thing out of the way. They were already late to Ian’s for some caramel apple dipping shit he was insistent on boring him with.

“Great buddy, let’s go though we’re late.”

“Can we order pizza?!”

He was positive that his son asked that question way too much. It was either pizza or mac n’ cheese or some other various food item. Seeing as how the costume was hell bent on breaking the Mickey bank, he hit his son with the delightful “we’ll see” aka the worst words a child can hear.

Arriving at Ian’s with a hungry, excited six year old on his hands made for the most ridiculous elevator ride of his life. Yev was jumping up and down and making faces at himself in the mirror like a lunatic. He loved the kid though. He figured if Yev could put up with his stupid shit the least he could do was return the favor.

“IAN!” Yev squealed jumping on his favorite redhead. “Look, look I’m gonna be batman!”

“Oh wow! That’s so cool. Now we gotta have a batman marathon.”

“Can we have it here?!”

“Of course, after we sucker your dad into it.”

And if there’s one thing Yev was down for it was suckering Mickey into things. Those two together were lethal.

Yev ran off to play with the other kids leaving Mickey to his ginger tree for a few seconds. He was dressed in a green tank top, because he liked to make Mickey drool, and jeans that were diabolical on his hips. Mickey was kissing him before they’d even said hello. There were fewer greater pleasures in life than Ian tracing Mickey’s jaw with his too big hands, grabbing at his ass like they were teenagers. Kissing and licking inside each other’s mouths like they were hungry for each other.

Mickey’s hands were on Ian’s hips dipping under the waistband of his sweatpants as they kissed when the children finally caught sight of them. It was a chorus of ew’s and icky’s and dry heaving.

“Tell me about it. They never stop.” Yev sighed.

“Alright, alright who’s ready to make some apples?” Ian asked.

“MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” They screeched in unison.

Ian was way too good with kids. Mickey kind of had to be, and even then he worried constantly about fucking his kid up somehow, but for Ian it was effortless. He gave them all their own little stations and used garbage bags so no one got messy. Growing up Mickey didn’t do shit like make caramel apples during the fall time, and he was sure Ian didn’t either, which only made it sweeter that he did it for his nieces and nephews(And now Yev). He made the caramel from scratch and got chocolate so they could double dip the apples and cover them in sprinkles and shit. Mickey didn’t even know where to buy sprinkles. Were they in the dessert aisle or the candy aisle? Who fucking knew?

“They like the apartment. And I don’t get to have them over nearly enough so I try to come up with ways to have fun when they’re here.” Ian shrugged.

“And you get to make caramel.”

“And I get to make caramel.” He chuckled, agreeing. “Uh after trick or treating everyone always stays over at Lip’s. His place is bigger than mine believe it or not. I was thinking maybe Yev could stay the night since he seems to be getting along with everyone. And maybe you and I could… go out?”

Mickey raised an eyebrow. “You askin’ me out on another date Gallagher?”

“Something like that. What do you say?”

“Okay… Make me a fucking caramel apple though. And you gotta ask Yev.”

Ian smiled kissing Mickey again before leading him over to the apples. Mickey was much more interested in just eating the caramel and chocolate and got his hand slapped with a spatula way more than any grown man should have to endure. The kids had fun, but when they realized they had to wait before they could eat they suddenly became much more interested in playing then “cooking”. Yev ran off with Fiona’s son and Yev and didn’t look like he wanted to die because of it. Mickey bit his lip wondering constantly if he was making the right choice.

“You think you might wanna spend the night? It’s Friday. No school tomorrow.” Ian asked trapping Mickey against the counter, lips hunting skin.

Mickey smirked. “I don’t know. Yev’ll probably be dying to go home. Our swimming pool is much better. It’s called a tub.”

Ian chuckled low and throaty in his ear and it was absolute heaven. Mickey wished he’d laugh all the time just so he could commit the sound to memory.

“He’ll pass out. My sister will come and pick up her kids. And you and I are gonna take advantage of my tub. And then my bed. Twice.”

Mickey bit his lip forehead pressing into Ian’s.

“Jesus you sure got a lot planned for a Friday night.”

“Mhm, and I plan to make it last till Saturday.”

Mickey moved away with a grunt before he ended up with a hard on in a room full of children. They ate pizza, that Yev and the rest of those demons practically begged for, and watched a movie while waiting for the apples to harden. Mickey thought it was super weird that his Friday night was helping babysit and having to stop his boyfriend from getting too handsy like a seventeen year old girl, but it was good. He liked it. A lot.

They all ate their fucking apples before collapsing in heaps of various states of fullness. Then Fiona was there picking up her litter, and Carl who had only come to drink Ian’s beer and fuck around with his pool table. She smiled brightly at Mickey and Yev as if it was really so great to see them again. She even offered to call Mickey to set up a play date for Yev, Liam, and Ethan which Yev seemed genuinely happy about. Then she was hugging Ian and giving him this odd look that Mickey couldn’t quite place before ruffling his hair and fleeing from the massive apartment. Mickey raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn’t comment.

“Hey bud, you ready?” Mickey asked nudging the faking child who was dramatically snoring on the couch.

“Too tired. Must stay on couch.” He yawned.

Ian was suddenly next to him chuckling softly at the small boy.

“Oh that’s too bad. I thought he could sleep in one of the guest bedrooms, the one with the lava lamp too. But Mick if he’s too tired we probably should leave him be.”

The mention of lava lamp had the boy jumping off the couch like a fish out of water. It would’ve been pathetic if the little shit was so fucking cute.

Mickey chuckled. “You wanna stay here tonight?”

Yev nodded his head so hard Mickey worried he might hurt himself.

“Can we? Please?!”

“Show us this fucking lava lamp.”

Ian was practically bursting at the seams with his happiness. Mickey could tell he thought he’d gained some real leverage that night, as if he’d won a major battle in the war to get Mickey out of his comfort zone and into Ian’s apartment. He set up the lava lamp and turned the lights off so Yev could ooh and ah at the colors. He let Mickey tuck his son in lounging on the edge of the bed and watching the father and son duo. Mickey was so soft with him. He kissed him and messed with his hair and cuddled in with him until Yev’s eyes were nice and heavy. Ian couldn’t help but think that one of his favorite things about Mickey was the amazing father he was. God he was so in love.

“I’m really glad you decided to stay tonight.” He murmured in Mickey’s ear that night.

Mickey nodded worming his way deeper into Ian’s arms.

“Me too.”

“Yea?”

“Don’t want you to think we’re taking advantage cause we live in some shitty apartment, and you’ve got all this amazing stuff. ‘M only here cause of you. That’s all I need.”

Ian could tell it was serious because Mickey refused to look him in the eye when he said it. Regardless it meant the world to him. He pulled Mickey closer breathing in the warmth that he provided. They were close, so close and he wanted to say the words that had been bouncing around in his skull for weeks. But he didn’t. His fingers trailed down Mickey’s back rubbing smooth circles into the skin. They weren’t ready yet.

“You’re all I need too.”

*                                                                                                *                                                                                   *

 

“Dad all the candy is gonna be gone if you don’t hurry up!” Yev whined.

Mickey rolled his eyes holding his son’s backpack up.

“Sorry I was a little busy packing the bag I’m sure I told your ass to pack three days ago.” He said with no heat behind the words.

“Oh. Oops.”

Kids.

Ian was waiting at his house for Mickey and Yev to show up. It was him, Lip, Fiona, Jimmy, and their kids ready to snatch up all the candy the rich bastards had to offer. Ian had suggested starting without him and had almost gotten pushed down a flight of stairs. When they did arrive Yev was the first through the door jumping into Ian’s arms in his adorable batman costume. They’d formed a bond during one of the various movie marathons when they’d forced Mickey to sit through what felt like a five hour long Dark Knight. Still, Ian was shocked when Yevy would get that close to him, that he was allowing him to slowly become a part of his life.

“Ian! Look look isn’t it awesome?! I’m batman!”

Ian smiled hitching the child up on his hip. “Dang Yev you weren’t supposed to out-dress everybody. What are the others gonna think?”

That made the little boy giddy with happiness, cause he still felt like a bit of an outcast with Ian’s family. Ian pressed a sloppy obnoxious kiss the little boy’s cheek before turning to the other little man he was obsessed with.

“And just where is your costume Mr?”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “I’m the brooding asshole. Trick or treat.”

They kissed softly and sweetly until Yev started making gagging noises and completely ruined the mood.

Kids.

Yev ran off to play with the other kids leaving the adults to get everything ready for the night. Fiona was driving because her car was the biggest and they would walk around the neighborhood before stopping at McDonalds on the way to Lip’s and ending the night with movies until everyone fell asleep. It sounded perfect and since Yev and Mickey’s Halloween plans usually centered around bought candy and take-out they were excited for the night. Mickey was more concerned with what would happen after trick-or-treating when it would be just him and Ian. They hadn’t been alone in way too long, and he just wanted the opportunity to stare at him and not say how he really felt.

They got out on the streets and Yev ended up in the middle of a hand holding trio. He had to hold Mickey’s hand cause that was his dad, but one day he’d held Ian’s hand for something and never really managed to let go. From a third point of view it could’ve been anything. Well not really, it just looked like two dads holding their son’s hand, and that fact didn’t go unnoticed to two of the other adults around for the ride.

“You see that?” Lip asked.

They’d taken to lifting Yev off the ground every couple of steps and were both wearing matching grins at the sight of the child’s laughter.

“They’re kinda cute.” She shrugged.

“Yea they look kinda serious too. Kinda not just dating serious.”

“You think he would’ve brought him home to our fucked up family if it wasn’t?”

The kids ran off to another house and Ian was messing with Mickey’s jacket smiling like the sun shined out of his ass.

“You don’t think he’s gonna do something stupid with this one do you?”

“I think he likes him enough to want him to like us. And I think we should respect that.” She said.

“Yea oddly enough that didn’t answer my question. I’m more concerned with what happens when Ian gets too pushy and invites this guy to live with him when there’s a kid involved.”

Fiona sighed wanting to give him more credit than that, but failed to see through his history. Yev came running from down the house and immediately showed Mickey and Ian what he got. Then it was back to holding hands and making their way to the next house. Neither of them knew who to be more concerned for: their brother with a mental disorder and an inability to take things slow, the single dad with a mysterious Southside cork rooted deeply in the way he presented himself, or the child who seemed to be blurring the lines of what their brother was supposed to be. It all seemed like a disaster waiting to happen.

*                                                                                                *                                                                                   *

 

“You gonna be okay?” Mickey asked again that night.

Yev sighed impatiently. “Yea dad I’m fine! Now go, you’re embarrassing me.”

Mickey didn’t even know you could embarrass a six year old. The joys of parenting.

“Yea alright. If anything goes wrong have Fiona call Ian and I’ll come back.”

He reached for his son hugging him tightly and kissing at his black hair. Yev smiled despite his need to act tough and squeezed his dad back just as hard. Then he reached to hug Ian and thank him for taking him trick-or-treating. Mickey watched the two with a bit of a smile on his face. He was settling in, getting use to the thing they had going. When Ian reached for his hand to drag him towards the door he didn’t even pull away.

He could feel Ian’s siblings eyeing them from afar but he chose to ignore it and sent a nice mental middle finger their way. Ian had a way of taking up all his attention, and he was grateful for that, that night. He got to be present and be solely with Ian, and it felt damn good.

“Where are you taking me anyway?”

Ian grinned annoyingly. “Well it’s Halloween….”

“So you figured you drag me off to the woods and cut my body into little pieces?”

“Not this time. I was thinking we’d go to a haunted house actually. You ever been?”

Mickey raised an eyebrow. “Fuck no I’ve never been to a haunted house.”

“If you get scared you can always hold my hand.”

“Fuck off.”

There comes a moment in every man’s life where he must ask himself how he got in the predicament he’s in. Mickey would’ve love to know how the entire fuck he ended up in a group with  bunch of screaming ignorant teenagers and his tall ass sadistic boyfriend who seemed to be reveling in the shit as fake blood soaked monsters lunged at them from all sides. He wasn’t scared of the fake detached limbs or the zombie brains that oozed down their shoulders. He was fine in the corn fields with the chainsaw and the mutant weird soupy looking things. He was a Milkovich for Christ sake; he had a rep to protect.

Well that rep went out the fucking window when clowns came into play. Everyone should be afraid of clowns, creepy looking motherfuckers. One minute he was holding hands with his dumbass boyfriend who was screaming his brains out, and then he saw red hair that did NOT belong to his ginger and the white face with blood dripping everywhere and the fuck chuckles and he. Was. Gone. Ian stared on in astonishment as his supposed Southside thug left him for fucking dead in a carnival world gone wrong. He didn’t know whether to be angry or laugh.

He found him at the end of the attraction thingy bent over with his hands on his knees gasping for breath. Ian decided laughter would be the best route to take.

“Shut the fuck up! You did not say clowns. There was never a fucking word about clowns.” Mickey gasped, still out of breath.

Ian only cackled harder. “Have you ever run that fast in your life?”

“Not since I was running from the cops, you asshole.”

“Awwww I think it’s kinda cute that you’re afraid of something. I mean it would’ve been nice for you to not leave me for dead with fucking bobby the red nose clown but it’s kind of endearing.”

Mickey shook his head. “I’ll hold your hand through a lot of shit Gallagher, a clown infestation is just not one of them.”

Ian wondered if he really meant that, if he’d hold his hand through good and bad. And to what extent would that hand be there waiting for him. He chose not to dwell on it for long.

“Okay tough guy let’s get you a beer to celebrate making it alive through the scariest haunted house of all time.”

Ian threw his arm around Mickey’s shoulder as they made their way towards the exit that was still littered with ghouls and goblins. A clown that had most certainly not been there when they came in waved goodbye with a bloody butcher knife and a smile causing Mickey to wince and hide his face in Ian’s chest. That alone made it a good date. Mickey had been there through all the things that made him scared, and he got to do the same for him. And the thought that maybe that meant they complimented each other, maybe they could always be there for one another.

They drank beer and ate burgers and snuck off to the bathroom to make-out, and neither of them had ever felt so alive, so irrevocably happy. They blamed one another for that happiness, for that smile that wouldn’t leave and that blush in their cheeks when the other noticed them staring. It felt good, so undeniably good. They just continued to bask in that happiness.

When they got to Lip’s door that night they were hesitant to go in, scared that their bubble would be popped by screaming kids and nagging siblings. Mickey’s fingers were trailing under Ian’s t-shirt touching at the skin of his back and pulling him closer. Ian’s nose was skimming along Mickey’s throat loving his smell and struggling to commit it to memory. They kissed passionately invading each other’s mouths with way too much tongue and not caring in the slightest. It was sweet and goofy and playful. But it was also serious, because in that moment they both realized what they’d been so afraid to say. And they realized that when they were together, they didn’t need to be afraid. They were safe.

“Mickey.” He whimpered against his boyfriend’s open lips.

“Yea?”

“I think I’m in love with you . . . I love you.”

It was a whisper that ghosted over his skin and settled deep within him, forming a thick cocoon to keep him warm.  Mickey pulled him closer kissing him again and again because it felt like it would never be enough.

“I love you too. Fuck Ian, I love you.”

Ian smiled at him with that stupid, gigantic smile that Mickey had fallen desperately for. And as they continued to kiss he felt like he was running out of air while simultaneously feeling like he was breathing for the first time. His stomach was a sea of fluttering waves. He felt full and content and complete. He felt like he was feeling for the first time. It was a world of firsts, and he never wanted it to end.

They made their way inside still clutching at each other and completely ignoring the massive heap of sleeping people in the living room. Ian tugged Mickey towards one of the various bedrooms in Lip’s apartment pulling at his clothes and shoving him down to the bed. They laughed into each other’s skin, feeding one another with their happiness. Their bodies found a way to blend into one, and nothing had ever felt that way before. Not for Ian or for Mickey. It was amazing.

“Say it again. One more time.” Ian begged clutching at his skin.

Their hips kept meeting over and over again as they raced to the finish line. Mickey’s legs wrapping tightly around Ian’s back, hands tracing anything he could touch. It felt good. Too good. Too good for him to be quiet or hold on to any semblance of his dignity. Maybe that’s what love does to you. Makes you okay with that, puts you at peace with your lack of self-control.

He moaned a whiny, frantic sound face pointed up at the ceiling as he arched into Ian’s touch.

“Shit, Ian! I love you.”

His hands moved to Ian’s hips wanting him deeper, wanting Ian’s skin to cover his. They cried out to the air rutting their flesh together as it all came crashing down. Then it was collapsing in a sticky heap of sweat and cum and a little bit love. Mickey wasn’t sure how Halloweens were supposed to end, but he couldn’t help but completely content with his.

*                                                                                                *                                                                                   *

 

Mickey was woken up by the sound of children. His ears had been trained to Yev’s nosiness since he started crawling, whereas Ian in a house of more than five probably relied on his ability to tune them out. He took in the sleeping ginger beside him and couldn’t not smile. The night before was still resting heavily on his mind as he ran his fingers through Ian’s hair. He was in love, so deeply in love and proud as shit of it.

The boxers he yanked off the floor weren’t his and he didn’t really care. He was still pulling on a shirt when two kids in footy pajamas ran past him giggling like maniacs and he figured he better get some coffee before he told someone to shut the fuck up.

Lip was in the kitchen with boxes of donuts and bagels and premade coffees. Mickey kind of wished Ian was awake, or Yev, or literally anyone that could come and rescue him. None the less it was just him so he took a seat and grabbed at one of the coffees needing the caffeine before he could function. Lip seemed hell bent on testing his boundaries before the coffee could even begin to take effect.

“Yea Ian’s the only one who can cook.” He shrugged gesturing to the bought goods before him. “We call him betty crocker at home.”

“I call him Bobby Flay.”

Lip chuckled grabbing a coffee for himself.

“You know it’s really nice for Ian to find someone so willing to accept him for what he is.”

Mickey simply lifted his shoulders keeping his eyes on his coffee. “He puts up with me having a kid, and all the fucked up baggage I got. He’s normal compared to me.”

“That’s so interesting that you think that way. Most would put mental disorder and psychotic tendencies above single dad.”

“I’m sorry what?”

Then he was looking at him and Lip knew he had him if his grin was anything to say about it.

“Yea, the bipolar disorder usually catches his dates off guard, and as soon as they google it they run for the hills. But the fact that you’re okay with it and you’re okay with your kid being around it? That’s really cool man.” Lip nodded feigning bewilderment.

Mickey could feel his cheeks flood with color as anger coursed through him. He felt embarrassed. His heart sunk in the pit of his chest. Lip had made such a fool of him and it was Ian’s fault. It was confusion and fear and frustration all boiling up inside of him. He didn’t care if he was giving Lip exactly what he wanted when he stormed around the house grabbing his and Yev’s stuff. He didn’t care if Fiona stumbled into the living room to watch obviously confused but still managing to stick her nose up at him when he woke Yev up and forced him to get his shoes on so they could go. There were no explanation from Ian, so he didn’t see why he had to explain anything to those assholes anyway.

He left the house and that night behind, and he swore that he left his heart behind too, broken and mangled and still completely Ian’s.

When Ian woke up he swore his mouth was permanently stuck in a smile. He had visions of cuddling and kissing and saying three words over and over again though he swore he’d never tire of them. He wanted to hold Mickey and never let go, wanted to bask in that same bubble that had nearly consumed them the night before. But when his fingers went searching for the very thing he wanted they came up empty, nothing but him and the cool sheets. The disappointment was thick in his throat and he worked to swallow it as he climbed out of the bed.

Mickey’s clothes were missing which meant his plans for cuddling were probably ruined, but he felt okay with settling for breakfast with his family and Mickey and Yev. He reached in his jacket pocket for the canister that held his pills and quickly hid them in his palm so Mickey wouldn’t see. It didn’t really matter though because Mickey was nowhere to be found. Instead it was just Lip and Fiona sitting together at the table with looks on their faces that just screamed foul-play. When Ian looked out at all the kids showing each other their candy he noticed Yev wasn’t in the bunch either.

“Where’s Mickey and Yevgeny?” He asked suspicion deep in his voice.

Fiona was staring at Lip telling Ian everything he needed to know. The dynamic between the three never changed.

“What the fuck did you do Lip?”

“Why is it always me who did something? Why can’t it be Fiona for once?” He asked before quickly backpedaling at the glare Ian gave him. “Okay, alright Jesus. I just wanted to make sure he could handle you Ian. You know how you get with these dudes. You get infatuated with them and get too deep, too fast and before you know it me and Fi are stepping in to pick up the pieces.”

“What do you mean handle me? What did you tell him lip?!”

“Ian calm down okay?” Fiona murmured soothingly.

Ian snapped then turning on the both of them.

“Don’t, don’t fucking tell me to calm down like I’m a fucking child okay? I’m fine. I’ve been fine! And Mickey made me more than that; he made me happy so tell me how badly you just ruined that.”  

“I told him about your bipolar disorder alright?”

“Ian! Ian come on come back.” Fiona called as Ian stomped off.

He was yanking on his clothes and trying to find his phone all the same time. He couldn’t believe that the thing that would come between him and Mickey was his disorder. That thought was too depressing. Ian had to believe that if what he’d said the night before was true, if Mickey really loved him than they could get through it. They could get through anything.

“Hey I know my fucktard of a brother tried to run you off this morning and I know I should’ve told you but you gotta let me explain okay? Just hear me out. Call me back Mick.”

It was a twenty-five minute drive back to outskirts of the Northside to get to Mickey and his heart hammered unsoundly in his chest. Mickey knew. And something about the way Lip had said it made him scared enough of him to run away. And he so tired of people being afraid of him, of walking on eggshells, and treating him like he was unstable, like he hadn’t worked his ass off for years to be just that. It wasn’t fair and it hurt, and he couldn’t figure out why Mickey of all people would treat him that way.

When he got there he wanted to be calm and show Mickey that he wasn’t crazy; he was still the same guy he’d met in the grocery store that didn’t freak the fuck out when his son hit him in the head with a box of mac ‘n cheese. Knocking on the door was the most terrifying thing he’d ever done, and the fact that Mickey didn’t answer was just soul crushing. He knew he was there. It was like he could feel him through the door breathing, heart beating, and he just wanted to be near him. He wanted this to be over.

“Mick. Mick come on talk to me!” He called pounding on the door. “I wanted to tell you! I just I—I didn’t wanna ruin this. Please Mickey?”

He must’ve stood at the door for thirty minutes just hoping Mickey would come let him in. He should’ve known better, should’ve known his luck just wasn’t that good. He ended up leaving with his heart torn gruesomely from his chest. He left it there with Mickey. There was no other place it belonged.

*                                                                                                *                                                                   *

 

October left and November blew in with it’s ridiculous wind and depressing rain. Mickey took Yev to school and he went to work, then he clocked out, picked up Yev and went home. He didn’t think about the emptiness in his gut or how cold his sheets were in the morning. He didn’t listen to the voicemails Ian left or the texts that he sent. Mickey felt immensely embarrassed after the fiasco with Lip, and the way he’d sneered at him with the information. Ian should’ve told him, and he had every right to be upset.

For a while he didn’t know what he was upset about exactly. He just knew that tight bundle of nerves that felt like it was in both his stomach and his throat at the same time was causing pain every time he breathed. And he knew that he couldn’t see Ian, that that would only hurt him more.

Then weeks continued to pass and his feelings kind of evolved. He realized how hard he’d trusted Ian. Those fucking lips, and those eyes as pure as the fucking ocean. He’d fallen into the depths of Ian Gallagher and he knew it was happening, but he’d trusted him. Trust meant something to Mickey. It was scary and it was hard for him and Ian had told him over and over again that he didn’t need to hide from him, there were no secrets. But there were—or was. And it was a pretty big fucking secret to keep. Of all the people to let him down Ian hurt the worse. Because he’d come out of his shell for him, he’d stepped carefully as first and then went all in. That trust that they were supposed to have meant nothing because obviously Ian didn’t trust him.

For a while it just hurt. Because eventually Ian stopped calling, and that broken chunk of his heart festered into a thick sore that constantly pained him. He loved him. The breaking of that trust hadn’t broken that. A part of him wished that it would just for the sake of making things easier. Another part of him, a bigger part, was so ridiculously happy that it didn’t. Yev wasn’t happy. Mickey sure as shit wasn’t happy, but he hadn’t been the one to break it so he wasn’t gonna be the one to fix it.

“Daddy?” Yev murmured at bed that night.

It’d been a rough day with Mickey constantly on edge. It was thanksgiving and instead of spending it with Ian’s family, they’d eaten Chinese takeout on the couch just like always. Instead of feeling like tradition it had felt like settling.

“Yea?”

“Are we ever gonna see Ian again?”

And that crack that Mickey had been filling, in a desperate attempt to keep himself stable, with beer and coffee and more work than ever before just split open letting all the pain come rushing forward like a dam giving way.

“I don’t know buddy. I uh . . . I really don’t know.” He mumbled sadly.

Yev wormed himself deeper into his father’s arms trying to share the warmth of his SpongeBob turned batman blankets. It was his way of telling Mickey he didn’t always have to be strong. That they were a family and that Yev didn’t mind taking the burden sometimes.

“Well… it doesn’t matter. I like you the bestest anyway.”

Mickey chuckled softly touching his forehead to Yev’s.

“Yea?”

“Yea.”

“Well I like you bestest too. Now get some sleep. We’ll go get discounted pie in the morning alright?”

His son smiled his biggest smile pressing a sloppy kiss to his father’s cheek before settling in for the night.

“Night dad.”

“Night Yevy.”

Mickey closed Yev’s door releasing a sigh that seemed to leave him a little bit deflated. The apartment was quiet as he went around to pick up all the mess that came with having a six year old. He missed the warmth of another person beside him, missed the loud bolstering laugh from Ian when he said something funny. His eyes went to his phone every couple of minutes but he couldn’t bring himself to pick it up. He missed him so much it hurt, but knew there was no point.

The knock on the door interrupted his internal debate. He kept staring at the phone willing whoever the fuck it was to go away and leave him to procrastinate, but whoever it was wasn’t having it.

“Alright, jesus fuck I’m coming!” He huffed.

When he envisioned seeing Ian Gallagher for the first time since skipping out with his kid after orgasming “I love you”s into each other’s mouths, he figured he’d looked a little better. He’d wear the black jeans that shrunk in the dryer with the cut in the knee that drove Ian crazy. He would’ve showered and done something with his hair. Yet none of these things happened. Instead he stood in sweatpants and a tank top holding a trash bag full of empty sesame chicken boxes  The universe was clearly throwing him fuck you after fuck you.

And fuck did looking at him still do terribly wonderful things to his mangled heart. He still wanted to reach out and touch him, wrap himself up in him and never let go. But he stood, silent and brooding at the redhead look up at him with hesitant eyes.

“H—Hey. I uh I brought pie. It’s my sister’s famous ‘sorry my brother told you about my mental disorder’ pumpkin pie. Goes great with ice-cream. And long explanations and apologies.” He rattled off teeth sinking into his bottom lip. “Can I come in?”

It wasn’t even a question, which kind of made Mickey hate himself. After all that pain and the wasted effort he still wanted him, he’d still listen to anything Ian wanted to tell him.

He snatched the pie from Ian’s hands and headed straight for the kitchen to grab a fork specifically not getting Ian one, because like fuck he was sharing that pie, before collapsing at the kitchen table with a sigh. Luckily the pie didn’t fucking suck either. Ian took off his jacket and his gloves and his beanie, nose red still from the cold and Mickey had to literally restrain himself from reaching out and nibbling at that nose.

“Explain.”

Ian nodded seeming to swallow hard as he intertwined his fingers in front of him. He seemed to vibrate as he stood there, so much excess energy just boiling inside of him that Mickey just wanted to reach out and calm him with his fingers. But he realized he wasn’t sure if Ian was his to calm anymore and that had him shriveling back in his seat.

“So my mom had bipolar disorder. She was a real shit mother. Her and my dad would go on benders for days, weeks if they felt the need. Often times heroin or coke went above groceries. She’d uh bake me a cake and then yell at us all for something stupid like sitting on the couch wrong. Then she’d lay down for a nap and then two weeks later she’s still fucking laying there and she won’t get up. Then when she does she acts like nothing ever happened and maybe she’d throw a party for one of us just to get high and suck off a random drunk with a pot belly in the bathroom. She breezed through life without a care for anyone or anything but herself. She lived without consequences and without ever stopping to think about her family, about what she put us through.

“Genetics said that one of us would get it. And I guess it’s not that surprising that it was me. I was always the most like her. That’s why my dad used to kick the shit out of me after she left. I didn’t . . . realize what it was. I just felt on top of the world. I felt like—like I could do anything and be anything. And so I wanted to revel in that, live in the moment and be happy and feel that ecstatic tangible thing that was coursing through me. I thought I was just finally happy ya know? And uh I started working at the Fairy Tale over in Boystown? I fucked a lot of guys. I did a lot of things that I can’t even really remember. It gets foggy to the point where they're just bodies. No faces. No names. It’s just me and this mass of flesh and I’m in them and sometimes there in me and I just . . . I’m chasing that feeling. Nothing can bring me down.

“But then uh I do get brought down. One night I was with some guy, did a lot of coke and fucked him until he passed out and then walked home and found someone else to fuck before I got there. And I lay down to go to sleep and I don’t get up for almost two and a half weeks. I’m staring at the wall and my little sister and brother are crying because they’ve seen it. We’ve all seen it. I can’t get up; I can’t comfort them. I just feel stuck. I feel replaceable and so fucking depressed to the point where it’s almost a physical weight pressing down on my chest. It’s the worst fucking feeling in the world.”

Mickey didn’t know when he stopped eating pie but all of a sudden his hands are out on the table intertwined just like Ian’s and the need to touch him had never been stronger.

“When I can get out of bed I try to tell myself that everything’s okay. They all started staring at me like I was Monica though. Like I was gonna hurt them. I was young enough that Fiona forced me to go into treatment which for me just meant psych ward. I’d seen my mom in one too many and she always looked like a zombie when she was there. I didn’t think I could get better. That I needed to get better. The lows were pretty fucking low but the highs were so high I thought they were worth it. That’s how the doctor explained it to me. Massive highs and massive lows alternating over and over again. It took years for me to actually come to terms with it. Some days I still don’t know if I’m making the right choice. But I do it. For my family. For myself. Because I know now that what I was doing wasn’t safe for me or for the people I loved.”

He took a deep breath, the air blowing past his lips shakily as if he was trembling. Mickey watched him stare down for a second before coming back up to stare at Mickey forcefully.

“But I’m safe now Mick. I won’t—I could never hurt Yevgeny. I love him, that’s never something you have to worry about. I—I promise I’m not the kind of person that I used to be. I don’t let my disorder define me and you shouldn’t even either. I’ve done this good so far, I won’t mess up.”

Mickey’s eyebrows went up as Ian’s words became more frantic and scattered. His eyes were wide and hesitant like he was trying to get Mickey to see he wasn’t a threat, which only confused him further.

“What the hell are you talking about Gallagher?”

Ian seemed to get confused then leaning back a little bit in his chair.

“That’s why you left right? Lip told you I’m crazy and you thought I would hurt Yevgeny, that I’m not stable enough to be around him. That’s what everyone always thinks. Even my brothers and sisters. They don’t mean it but I see the way they look at me, like I’m a ticking time bomb. I’m stable Mick you gotta believe me.” He assured him.

Mickey suddenly felt like a piece of shit as he pieced Ian’s words together. He’d been selfish. His thoughts had never once gone to Yev’s safety, only because not a single part of him had ever thought Ian to be dangerous. The thought alone seemed comical to him. Yev was more frightening himself, than Ian.

“No. I left because I trusted you. Because I let you in and I told you everything and you kept some pretty relevant fucking information from me. I told you . . . that I loved you. And you lied to me. I don’t give a shit that you’re bi-polar Ian, I give a shit that you didn’t tell me.” He said anger flaring up in his chest

And for a while Ian just stared at him in wonderment. He didn’t understand Mickey Milkovich. Every guy he’d met since his diagnosis had cared, they’d done one google search and had left him high and dry. But Mickey, Mickey was different. It occurred to him that he should’ve known that. Mickey was unlike anyone he’d ever met before.

“You don’t—you don’t care that I’m bi-polar? That I’m crazy?”

Mickey sighed. “You just said you’re not crazy and that you’re stable. Why would I care about something you can’t change? You’re taking meds or something right?”

He nodded vigorously, enthusiastically. “Haven’t missed a single pill in four years. I—I’m okay I promise.”

“We’re not okay though Ian. You lied to me.”

“I just didn’t want you to run away from me. I love you Mickey, I didn’t want to scare you off. I’ve scared off every guy that I’ve been with and you and me were different. We were good. I didn’t wanna mess that up.” He insisted, voice edging near hysterics.

Mickey looked down thumb running nervously over his bottom lip. Ian latched onto it, needing Mickey to see him, really see him and know that they could make it work.

“You said that night that you’d hold my hand through a lot of shit. Well this is my shit. It’s every day, it’s a piece of me, it’s who I am. I just need to know if you’re gonna let go or not. Alright, so just—just tell me.”

Mickey skipped that piece of information, because no way in hell was he ready to let it go yet.

“Are you clean?” He asked.

He’d never asked, and neither had Ian, but the information felt pretty relevant then.

Ian’s eyes widened as he nodded shakily. “Yea. I got tested in the hospital before they admitted me. Said it was a miracle with all the sexual partners I’ve had, but I’m clean. I can show you sometime if you want.”

The words came out desperate and scrambled. He wanted so badly for Mickey to see that he was okay, that they could work.

Mickey simply nodded eyes on the pie.

“So that’s it? You’re bipolar that’s the big secret?”

Ian winced. “Well technically I’m bipolar one with acute mania and uh psychotic features.”

“Psychotic features?”

“When I don’t take my meds I get hallucinations, delusions. I see shit that’s not there and uh believe things that just aren’t true. That’s what got me admitted. I believed that the mailman was trying to kill me. Attacked him with a baseball bat, then collapsed on the sidewalk sobbing. If I wasn’t admitted he was gonna press charges.”

“Fuck Ian.” He mumbled eyes blinking rapidly.

Ian was sure that he’d lost him then. He could feel it, like tunnel vision putting more distance between them by the second.

They stared at each other blue on green, and though no words were exchanged it felt like everything was laid out on the table. What they were willing to live through. What they weren’t willing to live without. Ian had gotten under his skin, and there was no ridding his veins of that touch. He needed it, craved it. None of it mattered. None of it had ever mattered. The stupid shit you’ll do for love.

“I’m tired.” Mickey mumbled standing from his seat.

Ian watched him with defeated eyes as Mickey walked away. It was a crushing weight settled firmly on his chest. Mickey letting go wasn’t an option. That pain was too much to fucking bare.

“Jesus Christ Gallagher you coming or not?!”

Oh.

*                                                                                                *                                                                                   *

 

*two months later*

 

“Yevgeny hurry the fuck up we’re gonna be late!”

“ALRIGHT I’M COMING!”

The seven year old came rustling towards his dad with the Ipad he’d been attached to since Ian had gotten it for him for his birthday, without Mickey’s fucking permission of course, barely moving away from the thing to put his coat on.

Mickey rolled his eyes. “You’ll be the death of me you know that?”

“You say that all the time daddy!” Yev giggled. “You’re still here.”

They made their way to the Gallagher residence for some fucking new year’s eve party or something that Mickey was completely unhappy about sans the fact of one particular Gallagher. That wasn’t true really. He liked most of them. Yev, Liam, and Ethan had formed some kind of squad against the girls, and Mickey was just happy to see his son happy. Fiona wasn’t so bad. Actually she was annoying as all hell, but she protected Ian religiously and for that he couldn’t hate her. Not to mention with the boys being friends he often had to deal with her for sleepovers, which required fifteen minute lectors on, “No sucking face with my little brother while you’re supposed to be watching my kid!” The freckled one, not the black one or the one who would surely be an arsonist some day. Lip was a fucktard. End of story.  Debbie was the most like Ian, which meant her and Mickey got along pretty well and she always defended him to the others. She was the most enthusiastic of their . . . relationship. Or whatever.  He could handle the Gallaghers, it was kind of worth it in the end.

“IAN!” Yevgeny squealed once again lunging for the gargantuan redhead.

Mickey would’ve been irritated that Yev always got to jump on Ian before him, if it weren’t for the fact that seeing them together made his cold heart melt. Ian held on tightly to Yev kissing obnoxiously at his cheeks and blowing raspberries to elicit giggles from the small boy. And then, as always, he’d turned to Mickey and the world would feel right again. They would kiss, much to Yevgeny’s audible displeasure, and Mickey would feel the happiest he’d ever been. Just like that. It was as simple as loving someone and allowing them to love you back. Who would’ve thought it?

“Jesus Christ the ball hasn’t even dropped yet you two, you’re suffocating Yev!” Fiona yelled coming to his rescue.

Ian released one Milkovich only to quickly grab onto another, his smile only getting wider. Mickey bit his lip trying his best to reciprocate it as his arms encircled Ian’s waist.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

Ian’s heart swelled. Greetings weren’t supposed to do that. Surely this was some weird crazy allusion, and he couldn’t be feeling this hard just by a man saying hi to him. Right?

“I missed you.” He mumbled forehead chasing Mickey’s.

Mickey grinned. “I saw you yesterday. Actually I saw you, and your bare ass, this morning when you snuck out to set up this shit show.”

“Mmm lucky you.”

They kissed again ignoring the gagging noises and groans from all the adults in the room. Plus the one squeal of delight. Thanks Debbie.

“I love your kisses.” Ian beamed.

“Yea? I might love you.”

“And I might love when you two jackasses move out the way!” Lip snorted bumping them as he walked through the door.

Ian watched that adorable glare of Mickey’s come out, and it really did his heart good.

“Let’s get you a beer huh?”

Mickey let him drag him towards the kitchen to get a beer, and relax, and maybe make out without someone interrupting.

He wasn’t sure how he ended up at a New Year’s Eve Party surrounded by people who maybe did or didn’t like him. He wasn’t sure how he ended up so happy and so stress-free. Not much had changed. He still struggled every now and again to pay some bill or rent. He still didn’t accept money from anyone. He tried to do what was best for Yev first and foremost. But now he tried to do what was good for him too. And that was Ian. Ian made him sappily happy, so full of it it made him feel sluggish. Ian made him smile against his will. He made him want to hug and kiss and show affection that he’d never shown anyone before. It was new and deep and amazing. It was Ian. And he loved it. He loved him.

The night continued to dwindle away as the year came to a close. It didn’t feel like anything was ending for Ian though. For the first time in his life he was being face with a world of possibilities. Would he move in with Mickey and Yev? Would they move in with him? Would his boyfriend ever let him help pay a bill? Maybe he could start a new section of the company with Lip, expand into China or something and find a way to get Mickey to come work for him. Blow jobs in the office sounded amazing. He didn’t know what was ahead and for the first time he didn’t care. He felt finally himself, finally content with the things he couldn’t change and hell bent on changing the things he could. He had Mickey. He had Yev. He had his family. And fuck was he happy.

So as the countdown began and everyone was jumping up and down acting stupid and drunk as all hell, he smiled. His fingers were interlaced with Mickey’s and there was a seven year old on his boyfriend’s shoulders who had a smile just as cute. They had their own little unit. Things had gone wrong, but they’d fixed them. They’d picked up all the broken pieces and stuck them back together again until the picture was something better. Something beautiful.

Thus they kissed as chaos ensued around but nothing had ever felt more stable. Here’s to another year. Another touch. Another kiss. They’d fucking earned it.

****  
  
  
  
  
  



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